


Healing

by Caedmon



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Eventually Resolved :), F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, Hurt/Comfort, Interfering TARDIS, Introspection, Ninth Doctor - Freeform, Origin Story, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, lots of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-04-20 02:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4770143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Gallifreyans have emotions, naturally. They feel, because the ability to feel is vital. However, although this mighty race and the even mightier Time Lords that spring from them may have two hearts, neither rule these masters of time, space and logic. The Time Lords are obedient only to the mind, never the hearts.</i><br/><i>Species who follow their hearts are simple. Laughable. To be pitied and protected, of course, but never, ever emulated. </i><br/><i>Emotions are nothing but trouble.</i><br/><i>Emotions hurt.</i><br/><i>Emotions </i>destroy.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prologue to the first work in a series. Rose does not appear in this chapter, nor is it shippy at all. The next chapter isn't, either, but they're background on the Doctor and what kind of headspace he's in when he meets Rose. 
> 
> Oh my giddy aunt did I ever take liberties with backstory, but I tried to be as accurate as I could given what I _do_ know. Any toe-stepping I did was completely and utterly non-intentional.
> 
> Usual disclaimers:  
> I own nothing. Absolutely nothing. Except mistakes, those are all me.  
> Kudos and especially comments are the reason I keep writing. So...consider letting me know what you think?  
> caedmonfaith.tumblr.com/clintasha-n-olicity.tumblr.com

To the children born of Gallifrey, loomed in a process of blending strategically advantageous genetic materials together with no thought beyond the desired corporeal result, the emotional instincts that they are born with are an acute liability. Infants on Gallifrey are bred; they are the result of a series of conscious and logical decisions by the parents and other well-educated adults. Children are not unplanned or conceived in the heat of passion, and that lack of emotion in their conception sets the tone for the many lifetimes to come. 

Time Lords are not rocked and nuzzled as infants, nor soothed when they cry, for to do so would teach that weaknesses are to be nurtured. The Time Lords teach that one’s own weaknesses are _never_ to be nurtured, only improved. Emotions certainly exist and have their place, but to allow them to have any say over one’s actions is preposterous. Any species or race low enough to think with their emotions is well beneath the Time Lords, for whom reason is King. It's not that Gallifreyans don't have emotions, naturally they do. They feel, because the ability to feel is vital to good intentions. However, although this mighty race and the even mightier Time Lords that spring from them may have two hearts, these masters of time, space and logic are not ruled by said hearts. The Time Lords are obedient only to the mind.

Species who follow their hearts are simple. Laughable. To be pitied and protected, of course, but never, ever emulated. 

Emotions are nothing but trouble.

Emotions hurt.

Emotions _destroy_.

And so it was that every Gallifreyan child was taught early in his or her life to shun the emotions that welled within him or her and follow the laws set by their species; the laws of time, physics, and logic. Their emotions should be ignored as much as possible. 

Emotions hurt. Emotions destroy.

Logic is law.

Law is order.

Order must be preserved.

That is the way of the Time Lords.

~*~O~*~

The Doctor well remembered being taken to look into the Vortex at the age of eight. He’d stepped up to the Untempered Schism, guided by the hand on his shoulder, and looked anywhere but the crack in Time that was waiting for his gaze. He felt it waiting. It beckoned him softly, tugging at his brain gently but insistently. 

He’d been afraid of this moment, of what he may see, and hot shame bubbled within him for this weakness along with the fear. The hand on his shoulder had compounded his fright; the panic of someone discovering that he’d allowed himself to _feel_ something just added to the taboo emotional cocktail swirling within him. He concentrated effort on swallowing the anxiety, telling himself to be the man that would make his parents proud. The twin suns never blinked, he told himself, they stared steadfastly at all of the goings-on in the universe. So must he. He must be steadfast and strong, like the twin suns. 

_Don’t be a child. Don’t be a stupid baby that can’t control itself and needs to sit in the corner for hours until it regains control. Be strong. Don’t waver. Don’t blink. This is your destiny. Don’t be afraid._

But he was. He was terribly afraid, and although the Elder and the Scholar were there with several other boys, he felt incredibly, incredibly alone.

“Go on, look.” The hand on his shoulder nudged him a little, with more gentleness than he was used to. He sensed an emotion he was unaccustomed to and had no name for but liked. It felt warm, like a nice bath, and he wanted more. He wondered idly if his emotional receptors were heightened because his fear was so high, and had a brief moment of panic because his fear _was_ so high, wondering if the Elder could feel it. He told himself that the Elder was being - _kind? sympathetic?_ \- and he wondered if perhaps even if he was showing fear when he wasn’t supposed to, maybe he wouldn’t be in trouble? Maybe this Time Lord was different from the others? Maybe the emotions he had such a hard time controlling weren’t such a terrible thing?

He looked up at the owner of the hand with bright, hopeful eyes and the warmth he felt from it died. The older Time Lord had apparently seen his hope, perhaps read his thoughts.

The boy's shoulders sagged under the Elder's hand. _Oh. Well._

The young Doctor - not yet the Doctor - looked quickly back down at his feet, avoiding the swirling light that kept tugging at his mind. The hand at his shoulder didn’t abide this, the tiny amount of patience he had apparently having been exhausted on the Doctor’s hopeful upturn of eyes. The Elder nudged the Doctor forward towards the Vortex, not unkindly, but with the clear intent that he should get on with it. 

The young boy closed his eyes and took a short, blind step forward, stumbling a tiny bit and praying to Rassilon although he knew he shouldn’t. 

_Please don’t make me look. Please don’t make me. Please don’t make me look. Please, don’t. Please-_

The young boy - not yet the Doctor - raised his head, opened his bright eyes and peered into the Vortex.

~*~O~*~

In many lifetimes to come, the Doctor wouldn’t be able to describe the Vortex and its beauty in any sort of way that may do it justice. Swirls of light and color, sounds that surrounded and filled him. It was vision. It was sound. It was everything. 

It was terrifying.

The Vortex was singing to him, showing him snippets of things he couldn’t possibly understand. 

Battles being fought in the sky.

Celebrations; people dancing together under twinkling fireworks and laughing. 

Himself standing amidst fire and rain, fury incarnate.

Himself weeping bitterly.

Himself laughing, joy etched on every line of his face.

Kings deferring to him.

Kings calling for his head.

Various people turning bright, happy faces to him in gratitude.

Himself running for his life, fear etched on every line of his face.

Huge, graceful beasts flying across the sky.

Planets breaking apart into dust, the magma within cooling into rocks within seconds.

A woman holding his hand, smiling brightly at him as they ran together.

But feeling so alone…

And all the while, the Vortex sang to him, telling him that he was destined for greatness, that he alone among his people would understand truths long lost, that his future was going to be the stuff of legend. It said that songs would be sung of him, tales told and he would be known across all of time, space and reality itself, beloved and feared. That he was destined to be different. He was the Time Lord who would change everything…

The young boy panted heavily as he viewed what the Vortex had to show him, hearing her song. His eyes were wild and his hearts beat rapidly. 

The old Time Lords who had brought him exchanged glances. Many children had shown fear before. It wasn’t an unusual reaction and, given the circumstances, it was certainly understandable, even forgivable. But this...this seemed different, somehow. 

The Elder bent to the young boy. “What is it?” he whispered urgently. “What is the Vortex showing you, boy?”

The young Doctor trembled and made a strangled noise in his throat, trying to answer, still looking into his future, still hearing the song. 

The Elder looked to the Scholar then back to the boy, shaking his shoulder. “What is it?” he hissed.

The boy didn’t answer this time. He just stared for a moment longer into the swirling light before he yelled, “ _No!_ ” with all of his might, turned, and ran away. 

~*~O~*~

The Time Lords had a strict moral code and set of laws that was to be obeyed at all times. The Doctor, despite having gone through The Academy and being exceptionally brilliant, was considerably less brilliant when it came to thinking inside the box, as it were. It wasn’t that he didn’t like law and order - he was rather a fan, thanks ever so. It wasn’t that he didn’t love being a Time Lord from Gallifrey, he most certainly did. He wasn't such a fan of the ceremonial garments, but in for a penny, you know. 

The problem that the Doctor had was that he’d never, ever been able to tamp down those emotions and instincts that were held so taboo by his people - not completely. Not to the level that his peers would like. He was certainly highly logical and a very deep thinker. Intellect was not a problem for the Doctor, _thankyouverymuch._ But contrary to the rest of his species, he quite admired the people, cultures, and species that let emotions have larger parts in their lives. He was utterly fascinated by humans, a race the Gallifreyans were very similar to but most other Time Lords heartily disapproved of. This marked difference between himself and the rest of his people didn’t bother him too much: he knew his destiny, though not his timeline. The Doctor was born to be a bit different, Time itself had destined him to be a rebel, and although that truth wasn’t entirely comfortable - well, not at all comfortable for himself sometimes and most uncomfortable for his family, specifically his wife - he would accept it. It didn’t take much to be different from the Time Lords, just a little flexibility of thought. A little admiration for humans and some secret emotional response didn’t hurt anyone. 

Still, though, he tried to toe the line for the most part. He’d made the expected advantageous match and loomed a child and then another - wholly unemotional events. Like a proper Time Lord, he remained mostly detached while a part of the social structure; it was his place to remain aloof, and had he shown too much emotion it would have created a problem for those in his life. He cared for his children as best he could, in his way, quiet and distant. He'd wanted to cause no trouble for them. He considered himself an island, alone and mostly isolated from the rest of his people, and he was alright with that for the most part. There were so few kindred spirits on Gallifrey, anyway, and no Time Lords like himself. So the Doctor just did his own thing, breaking the rules when he absolutely had to and keeping to himself otherwise. The Doctor knew the rules and how to play by them. He just...didn’t always do it.

But a quiet life on Gallifrey was not to be for the Doctor. The Vortex had shown him his future, and it was full of adventure, intrigue, and other things that he didn’t want to think about. He was quite the renegade already, what with his penchant for _feelings_ , but there was a great big universe out there that needed the gifts of a Time Lord and, according to the Vortex, this particular Time Lord. So, to that end and the fulfillment of his destiny, the Doctor stole a TARDIS and flew away, taking his granddaughter with him. Susan shared his love of adventure (and Earth), and surely the universe wouldn’t let anything happen to such a young girl. She would be his shield. 

Susan decided to stay behind in England and get married, but that was alright. He met so many other wonderful people, and they all taught him so very, very much. For the first time, the Doctor met other people like him and realized fully that the ideas drilled into him his whole life - that emotional beings were inferior, stupid, less than he somehow - were dead wrong. The people he met on Earth both in his early travels, during his exile and later were all brilliant, clever, warm and curious. They were everything he’d dreamed they would be, but they were anything but beneath him. He learned so much from them: and the chief lesson he took away was that emotions aren’t a liability. Emotions are what make life worth living.

Then the Last Great Time War happened, and the Vortex could be denied no longer.


	2. The Oncoming Storm and the TARDIS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tardis interferes on the Doctor's behalf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: the Doctor has suicidal ideation, plan and intent in this chapter. He also has a sentient blue box that loves him and hates when he's hurting, so everything turns out alright. He doesn't get a bruise, I promise. But this chapter may be one you want to skip. 
> 
> Next chapter - let the ship set sail!

There are certain instincts that every sentient being are born with; all related to survival. All are hardwired to find the materials they need to survive, and when faced with the threat of some sort of harm, they must choose to fight or flee.

~*~O~*~

It was strictly and expressly forbidden for a Time Lord to take his own life. The Time Lords, you see, were a gift to the universe, and to rob the universe of that gift would be a terrible crime. One that should never be committed. 

The Doctor scowled into the large glass of hypervodka in front of him. _Just killed all the Time Lords, me. What’s one more?_

He'd learned from the humans how to use his emotions. They'd taught him that emotions were _good_ , and that emotions were what made the world go 'round. Like a fool, the Doctor had believed them. Like a Time Lord, he'd made the logical decision and burned Gallifrey. 

Now these emotions, these praised emotions, these fucking _feelings_ that humans and so many other species wrote songs and poems and celebrated so much were killing him. They were destroying the last Time Lord. Thousands of knives filleted his hearts and mind every second, leaving him open and raw. The pain was unbearable.

Because of fucking _feelings._ Because of the goddamn _emotions_ he'd allowed the stupid, apelike humans to teach him all about.

Even in his mind, he sneered the words.

The Doctor raised his hypervodka, tossing his buzzed head back and draining the glass, then slammed it, empty, to the beaten table in front of him. He threw some currency onto the table, unsure and uncaring if it was correct, and gulped noisily.

_Nothing. That’s what one more Time Lord’ll be. Absolutely nothing. We'll all be gone and it'll be good._

~*~O~*~

He stumbled back to the TARDIS, snarling at the happy couple that didn’t get out of his way in time and mouthing off at the woman cradling her infant who stepped back, begging pardon from the frighteningly disheveled man in black leather. 

They were afraid of him. These people - these humans - were afraid of him. He'd saved their worthless lives over and over, and now they feared him.

 _Good,_ he thought bitterly. He really should terrify them. _I’m a fucking monster, after all._

A crazed smile crept across the lower half of his face, not touching his eyes. He stumbled down the cobblestone street of the resort town, the fear on people’s faces as they scrambled away stoking the fire in his brain higher and higher. 

_Be afraid, women and little children,_ he taunted no one from within his mind, _Men, hide the people you love. But it won’t matter._

“No one can hide from the Oncoming Storm,” he mumbled aloud, then snarled a laugh at himself. 

He saw himself from the outside for one flash and a chill ran down his spine. Shame, regret, self-loathing and anguish hit him like a wave and the Doctor doubled over at the waist from the sheer weight of it, fighting the tears he feared may be coming. 

He had to get to the TARDIS before the hypervodka wore off. There wasn’t much time. He could feel the weight of his crimes for eternity in whatever black hell awaited him - and he would deserve it - but for now he had to die. There was too much pleasure in this world. He should enjoy nothing. Nothing. He couldn’t tolerate this particular black hell any longer. He needed to find a blacker one.

The Doctor decided to forego terrorizing the locals as a last hurrah, putting aside his drunken bravado and ignoring what people he encountered for the rest of the short walk the TARDIS. He stumbled drunkenly to the side of the TARDIS, missing the handle on the first try, opening the door and locking it behind himself. Once inside, though, he couldn’t resist the banter with his one friend. Someone needed to remember him fondly, he felt.

“Hope you like where I put you, I tried to pick somewhere you’d enjoy the view for eternity. Seaside resort. D’ya like?” 

The TARDIS made a mutinous sound in the back of his head and he ignored her, pushing off from against the door. “Tonight’s the night, girl! You’ll finally be shot of me!”

She protested loudly and he smacked gently against the back of his head, as if to push her away. “Now, now. We’ll have none of that. We’ve discussed this.” She apparently didn’t let up, and he was firmer when he started off, staggering down the hall. “Bugger off. Rather, bring me the infirmary, then bugger off.” The Doctor trudged dutifully down the hall, stopping occasionally to open a door then close it back, then lean against a wall and wait for the TARDIS to stop spinning. “You doin’ that?” he asked almost conversationally. 

A shake at the back of his mind, then a plea.

“Jus’ the ‘no’ was enough, ta.” He carried on, opening more doors, not finding what he wanted, growing more and more frustrated. “Where is it, old girl?” An innocent denial. “Oh, don’t give me that shit. You know what’s happenin’. You’ll be fine, you don’t need me. I’m a monster, you know what I did. Get me in the infirmary, dammit!”

He stumbled on, opening doors and finding nothing but bedrooms, wardrobe, his workroom, the pool, the billiards room; everything, it seemed, but the room that would provide the drug that would interact lethally with hypervodka. 

“Oh would you stop with this horseshit?” he exploded at the TARDIS . “ _Timelines_. Horseshit!” He spit on the ground in disgust. “You can see my timeline as well as I, you know it’s in flux. There aren’t any fixed points for me. I can end it all now. So fuck off and give me the infirmary!”

The TARDIS growled at him and he ignored it. Stumbling on, he worried that his metabolism may beat the clock and tried to slow it down but push himself to find the room at the same time. The Doctor reached the next door and felt a little nudge of reassurance from the TARDIS. He turned his head to look back into the hall, as if expecting to see an interface. “You give up, girl?” A noncommittal hum. The Doctor smirked at his victory and opened the door. 

The room was blindingly white, completely plain. Utterly void of everything. He knew this room, and knew that it was completely psychically soundproofed from the inside and outside. Only he and the TARDIS could know what was happening here.

“The Zero room?” he asked, almost to himself. “What the bleedin-”

The floor of the hallway tipped forwards, knocking him into the room on his face and the TARDIS sealed the door behind him, creating a solid, impenetrable wall. 

The Doctor stood unsteadily and bellowed with rage. 

~*~O~*~

Time sense is lost in the zero room, and the Doctor was darkly amused to learn that his standoff with the TARDIS had lasted ninety-eight days. She had provided him with all of his needs, seeing to him even more attentively than she always did, but he was unable to bullshit her. He couldn’t convince her to let him out until he truly agreed not only to forego taking his own life, she forced him to agree to regenerate when his life was ended by someone or something else, as well. In short, she made him swear to abide by the laws of the Time Lords. He’d finally conceded, telling himself (and her) that was all fine and well, but not to expect him to be running from any danger. If he just happened to burn through the rest of his regenerations then so be it, that was that. 

She gave him the equivalent of a roll of the eyes and a pat on the head and he’d fumed at her. 

In that spirit - the spirit of finding danger - he’d told the old girl to take him to something really exciting. Something fun. He’d been trapped in the zero room for over three months _thankyouverymuch_ , he needed something to get his hearts pumping. Yeah? 

“You decide. Ladies’ choice. You take me where I need to go, girl. I’m gonna go change my jumper.”


	3. Let There Be Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _For just a short while there, in London, he’d felt like his life might not be rubbish. It was, of course, and he knew that, but she’d just been so....bright. The Doctor knew from centuries in space that anything that indicates light gives off heat. he hadn’t realized how dark and cold he’d gotten until some little spark from her had shone through to him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor has decided to pull his head out of his ass, and aren't we all glad?
> 
> The ratings may go up on this. Because of the swearing, I bumped it up to teen.

He ran back into the console of the TARDIS, the shouts of the irate indigenous population still audible through the monitor. It had been a narrow escape this time, a close victory, but not _fun._ The adrenalin was flowing, but that was just adrenalin. Not exhilaration. There hadn’t been any for weeks, and it really didn’t have anything to do with the Time War anymore. 

That little shop girl in London hadn’t come with him; she’d chosen to stay behind with that stupid ape who’d wound himself around her legs, and he’d really, really wanted her to come with him. 

For just a short while there, in London, he’d felt like his life might not be rubbish. It was, of course, and he knew that, but she’d just been so....bright. The Doctor knew from centuries in space that anything that indicates light gives off heat. He hadn’t realized how dark and cold he’d become until some little spark from her had shone through to him. That little, tiny bit of sunlight in the void of his life had awakened a longing in him. He realized after she made him smile so easily he’d wanted to smile more, to laugh more, to be around people. He realized that he had a longing to live. So he’d asked her to come along and join him in his travels. 

That bloody idiot boyfriend had clung to her and begged her to stay, like the pathetic ape he was. She was brilliant, and the thought of her with that idiot repulsed him for some reason he didn't want to think about. When she said no, the Doctor was unwilling to ask twice. His pride wouldn’t allow him to make himself anything like that blubbering child she felt responsible for. Time Lords didn’t plead. 

So here he was, weeks later, shifting into the vortex in the TARDIS and slumping into the jump seat. Alone. Not wanting to be. His shoulders slumped when he thought back on her and how his most recent travels would have been so much more brilliant - fantastic, really - had she been with him. She really would have enjoyed meeting the Princess of Atemanlu. They were about the same age, he thought. The Doctor thought of all the things he’d love to show her: the diamond reefs (now there’s a souvenir!), the bazaars around the galaxy, the twin suns of Avacore...he’d rather like to introduce her to Cleopatra. Cleo would get a kick out of how she’d - 

The Doctor sat up suddenly, eyes wide, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. The TARDIS made a sound of concern and he shushed her. 

“Do you know....” he began, “I never told her you were a time machine?” The Doctor closed his eyes and tried to view her timeline, knowing he shouldn’t, doing it anyway. Oddly, it was spider-webbed; so many options, but one of them was glowing brightly, golden in the vortex, and it was twined with his like a helix.

He let out a shout of laughter and leapt to his feet.

Pride be damned, he was going back. His past was an island behind him, and the Time Lords in the back of his mind telling him that humans were emotional beings and beneath the Gallifreyans were stranded on that island, that island he’d left behind him so long ago. 

He was going back. Something in him knew that his salvation was standing in an alley on Earth, wishing for more out of her life, waiting for him. 

Let there be light.


	4. Surprises for the Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The Doctor hadn’t counted on Rose Tyler. He hadn’t counted on her challenging him, standing up to him. He was a Time Lord, after all, mighty and feared throughout space and time. Who was this girl to shout him down, to question him, his ways, and his frankly magnificent ship giving her the gift of translation?_
> 
> _She was Rose Marion Tyler, that’s who she bloody well was._

The Doctor knew why he had done what he had. He wasn’t exactly proud of himself for it, but he was damned pleased with the results. He’d expected, of course, that this little pink ape was better than the rest, but she was still an ape, even if he _did_ like her. She was certainly beyond any other ape - oh yes - and he let himself admit his preference for her beyond any of the other idiots he’d dealt with of her species. This girl - this Rose Tyler - was special, he knew, as he watched her stare at the destruction of her planet with unflinching acceptance. She was stronger. Smarter. Better than all of them. 

But she was still only human, and therefore, less. 

He had wanted her to get a glimpse of the darkness she’d boarded a time machine with. He was a dark man, and maybe he just wanted company one way or another; either as a companion to brighten him or a dark sentinel of the universe - either one could travel beside him and abate his loneliness. Besides, it’d be interesting to see what someone so young and full of light would do if they watched their world catch fire and burn. It didn’t occur to him what a complete bastard he was being, doing this to someone so pure. Not until much later.

So he’d taken her to show her her planet au flambe. It could break her, he knew. He could have had a sobbing mess on his hands, and he’d have dumped her back with her boyfriend in a London back alley. It could’ve made her hard and dark, like him, and some horrible, black, slimy thing down inside of him was a little disappointed that it hadn’t. 

But it hadn’t. The bigger part of him was glad. Mystified, but pleased. 

The Doctor hadn’t counted on Rose Tyler. He hadn’t counted on her challenging him, standing up to him. He was a Time Lord, after all, mighty and feared throughout space and time. Who was this girl to shout him down, to question him, his ways, and his frankly magnificent ship giving her the gift of translation?

She was Rose Marion Tyler, that’s who she bloody well was.

The Doctor hadn’t counted on her humor or her compassion. Rose’s soft whisper at his shoulder - _’help her’_ \- when Cassandra was dying... It still tugged at him, and he knew that that moment would stick with him for centuries. Rose had nearly died at Cassandra's...well, not her _hand_ , per se...but Rose wanted to save this slab of skin? Unbelievable, she was. 

Then Rose watched her world burn. Everything she knew exploded, all of it consumed in ash. 

He’d expected tears. He’d expected wailing and gnashing of teeth. (That last would have landed her back with Mickey and no second thoughts about it.) But he’d been prepared to scoop up a shock-riddled little ape, curled in the floor, weeping and pleading, and take her back home because she wasn’t as worthy as he’d thought. He was wrong so often. 

The Doctor had gotten none of that. He got Rose Marion Tyler instead. 

This shop girl, this shining example of compassion, had told him she wanted chips when he asked if she wanted to leave him. And when he told her he was all alone, she looked him in the eye, smiled, took his hand and said, “ _there’s me_.”

The slimy black thing in him slithered down a little deeper and the light that had shone when he met her burned brighter. _Compassion,_ he thought. _I’d forgotten what it looked like. It looks like Rose Tyler._

He got compassion, he got Rose Tyler, and in the moment that her hand joined his, the Doctor, Time Lord of Gallifrey, began to heal.

When he found himself under the floor panel of the TARDIS later, having sent her to change for the 1860’s, the TARDIS decided to give him a bit of a hard time of it while Rose wasn’t around. 

“You knew, didn’t you? When you sent me to London.”

The TARDIS made an innocent sound in his mind. 

“Rubbish,” the Doctor scoffed. “You meddlesome old cow, you.”

Something large and metallic fell out of nowhere and struck the back of his close-cropped head. “Ow!”

The TARDIS smirked.

“That bloody hurt!”

Still smirking.

The Doctor rubbed the back of his head in hard, quick circles, then asked his ship in a soft, sincere voice: “Did you know she’d be like she is?” No answer. “Well? Did you? Did you pick through space and time to find this one specific girl?”

“Who are you talking to?” Rose’s lilting voice came just over the sound of her high heels on the grating and the Doctor scowled at his uncooperative ship.

“Nobody. Blathering at myself, apparently,” he said without looking up. 

“Funny habit, that,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “They say only geniuses and madmen talk to themselves. Which are you, Doctor?”

He laid his tools down, pocketing the screwdriver. “Why choose, I always say? I’m both-” The Doctor stood straight, putting his head out of the grating to look up at her.

Rose smiled down at him, and he felt one of the bridges tethering him to his old, bitter self burn bright, hot, and turn to ash.

"Blimey. You look beautiful.


	5. Downing Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Here they were, stuck in the cabinet room facing death, and she was more calm than he was. Didn’t she know she was only nineteen? That she had so much to live for?_
> 
> _Or was her trust in him so great that she wasn’t so worried?_
> 
> _The Doctor actually believed, truly, that it may be the latter and his hearts swelled._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters get longer and more dialogue-heavy soon, but I always felt like these first few should be more introductory to the Doctor's train of thought and indicative of where his head is, before it got into the 'meat' of the story. If that makes any sense. But if you've ever read any of my stories, you know that I'm a dialogue-y person, and there's quite a bit of interplay between the two coming. Honest! :)

“I could save the world and lose you,” he said, trying to hide the anguish in his voice. 

_Dammit._ He hadn’t meant to bare his soul. Certainly not in front of her mother, her (maybe) boyfriend, and the future bleedin’ Prime Minister. And himself, because until this very moment he hadn’t fully realized that he felt that way, felt it to the marrow of his bones. 

But sodden hell, he did. And it had taken such a short time for Rose to beat her way into his hearts and shock them back to glowing life, but she’d done just that. Oh, she’d done that in spades. 

Her willingness to stand up to him in Cardiff should have galled him. It should have infuriated him. With anyone else, it would have... but with Rose Tyler, it just endeared her to him even more. The fact that she was willing to ignore anyone and everyone for her own convictions was so appealing to him. The way she’d railed at the ‘dirty old man’ for copping a feel while he had her drugged had amused him to no end. 

And here they were, stuck in the cabinet room facing death, and she was more calm than he was. Didn’t she know she was only nineteen? That she had so much to live for?

Or was her trust in him so great that she wasn’t so worried?

The Doctor actually believed, truly, that it may be the latter and his hearts swelled.

“Right. Now I’m in charge,” she said, and he whirled his head to look at her, blinking. Had the situation not been so serious, he’d have picked her up and swung her around, watching her boss around a 900 year old alien and the future Prime Minister. So proud, he was. Just so pleased with her. 

Instead, the Doctor grabbed the phone and followed her directions, huddling in the closet as told.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Rose accused him with a smile as he squatted down next to her.

“Me? Look at you, taking command and making decisions!”

“Yeah, well…” She looked over at Harriet Jones, who was praying silently but fervently. “Somebody had to, and you were busy.”

“You were brilliant!”

Rose smiled under the praise, and he squeezed her hand tight. “If this is the last adventure we have, Doctor-”

“It won’t be, Rose. We’ll be fine, don’t talk like that.”

“But if it _is_ ,” she insisted, “I just want you to know that I don’t regret getting into the TARDIS with you. Not for a second. And I’d do it again in a minute.”

The Doctor had the sudden impulse to kiss her then, and was grateful for his better-than-human impulse control. “Better with two?” he asked, shooting a quick-but-pointed glance over to the still-praying Harriet. 

Rose touched her tongue to her teeth and smiled. “Definitely better with two.” The Doctor beamed again and she squeezed his hand. “You really are enjoying this.”

“Got me pegged, you.” He sobered, “but I am worried for you.”

“Nah,” Rose said, shoulder bumping him. “Might hurt a bit, but this has been the adventure of a lifetime.” She squeezed his hand and looked at him, gave him a gentle smile that nearly stopped his hearts. “Thank you for taking me with you.”

Rose Tyler was facing death and thanking him for it? Bloody hell. This girl was going to be the death of him.


	6. Meddlesome Cow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events in Utah, the TARDIS interferes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick reminder:  
> ~I own nothing. I wish I did.  
> ~Thank you guys so much for the hits, kudos and comments. They keep the muse alive, they really do.  
> ~A public service announcement for all authors and all fics: Anytime you leave kudos on any fic for any author, one member of your OTP smacks the other on the butt and winks at the other one while they scowl. Anytime you leave a comment, one comes up behind the other, wraps their arms around his/her waist and kisses their neck. Kudos and comments help your OTP out with PDA.  
> ~caedmonfaith.tumblr.com/clintasha-n-olicity.tumblr.com

_The woman he loved,_ that Dalek had called her. Rose Tyler had no experience with Daleks, so she could only assume that part of their warfare was psychological, to get inside their opponent’s heads. It had certainly worked on the Doctor. 

Rose could hear their conversation, and she’d never heard that tone from the Doctor. By now she thought she’d heard everything from him, an entire range of emotions. She’d heard him happy when things went well and he was pleased enough that he wasn’t trying to hide it. She’d heard him angry enough that he yelled and blustered about the console room. She’d seen him smile and speak comfortingly to small alien children in distant galaxies, and she’d heard him threaten with cold fury. She heard him laugh and speak with her in an affectionate way quite a bit that she let herself believe was solely for her. She’d heard him morose when anyone even got remotely close to the subject of the Time War. 

But she’d never, ever heard him afraid. Nor had she heard him sounding...almost broken like this. The closest she could think of was in Downing Street, but he’d still been fully in control then. This was different somehow. There was something in his voice Rose couldn’t place, but it scared her a little - and thrilled her a lot. 

“I killed her once, I can’t do it again.”

And then the bulkheads opened.

Not long after, he was aiming a gigantic gun at her and the Dalek, her heart stuttered with fear and there was that broken, small voice again after she pointed out that he’d been holding a gun to her. She wondered a few moments later, when he was clutching her desperately, if he was feeling guilty because he’d considered pulling the trigger anyway, just to make sure the last of the Daleks were gone. She got the answer later that evening. 

~*~O~*~

She heard music coming from somewhere not far from her room and, relieved, set out to find the Doctor. They’d boarded the ship with Adam, flown into the vortex and he’d set the ship to idle. 

“Are you okay?” she’d asked him.

“Me? M’fine. Don’t you need to show your new boyf around?”

“He’s not my boyfriend. Just a nice bloke.”

“Seems like a prettyboy to me.” The Doctor threw a look over his shoulder towards Adam.

Rose had shrugged, looking to the corridor where Adam was waiting. “S’not bad, I s’pose.” She looked back to him. “But right now, I’m worried about _you._ ”

“M’fine, Rose. M’always fine. But thanks for checking.”

She doubted very, very seriously that he was always fine, in fact she knew quite well that he was lying, but she decided not to push it. Not right then, not in front of someone.

So she’d shown Adam around, gotten him settled into a room, made it clear through word and deed that she was _not_ interested in staying with him, and waited around for the Doctor. Hours later, nearly half a day, she still hadn’t seen him. The music was a blessed sound, because she was quite sure that Adam wouldn’t know how to get the TARDIS to play anything for him, and he doubted the sentient ship would do anything for such a newcomer anyway. Rose got the distinct impression that the TARDIS wasn’t all that impressed with Adam: she’d given him a tiny, dusty bedroom with unimpressive accommodations, much like a cheap hotel. Rose’s own room was expansive, opulent, and the decor beautiful. She was quite sure that the Doctor had had little or no say in that decision.

Rose followed the sound of the music and it led her to a door just down from the galley. She tested the knob and it turned, opening the door on what she could only assume was the Doctor’s workshop. Gadgets and gizmos lie everywhere haphazardly: a hodgepodge of objects that whirred around and lit up, and a few beakers bubbled. It was cluttered but comfortable.

“Doctor?” she called, stepping into the room, doubting she could be heard over the din of the music.

“Rose?” he replied, jumping to his feet from the far corner, and the music instantly quieted. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard music and came to find you. Been worried about you.”

“Told you, m’fine.” He looked sullen.

“You locked yourself away for hours, don’t seem fine to me.”

“You’re not supposed to be in here. No one has been in here in centuries. How did you…? Oh, you meddlesome _cow_ you.”

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Rose threw her hands on her hips and was further annoyed to realise that she was a perfect imitation of her mother in that moment. She let the thought go.

“Not you, Rose,” he groused, “the TARDIS. This room is meant to be hidden from everyone but me. She showed it to you, and led you here with my music. She didn’t want me to be alone right now. Because she’s a _meddlesome cow_.” He said this last loudly to the ceiling, and Rose could swear she could hear snickering at the back of her mind. She assumed it was part of the song.

“Do you want me to leave?”

The Doctor shook his head and sighed. “No, if there’s anyone I wouldn’t mind being here, it’s you. C’mon in. Mind the…” he gestured aimlessly at the clutter and Rose pulled her arms in towards her body, crossing them. 

He brought her to the corner he’d popped up from, and there was a massive pile of cushions there. He flopped down and indicated the area next to him. “Have a seat.”

She sat, a bit more gingerly than he had. He lay back, crossing his arms behind his head. She followed his lead, leaning backwards and lacing her fingers together across her belly, then gasped when she saw that the ceiling was the night sky. 

Rose could hear the smile in his voice. “Like that, do ya?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Told you I’m impressive.” There was a hint of petulance in his voice, a whisper of a sulk that she thought she may know the root of, but she didn’t get a chance to root it out. “I could have killed you today, Rose. Several times. I’m not safe for you. I’m dangerous.”

“You’re not.”

He shook his head as if she didn’t understand. “I am. You know what I’ve done. You’ve no business being around me. I’ve put you in danger over and over. I should take you home to your mother.”

Rose sat up like a shot. “Don’t you _dare_ do that, don’t you _dare_ take me home because you think you know better than me what to do with my life, _Time Lord_.”

He sat up beside her, his blue eyes flashing. “I’m trying to protect you, Rose!”

“It’s not up to you to protect me!”

“Yeah, it is! You’re in my charge!”

“Your _charge_?” she sneered. “What the bloody, sodden hell do you mean by that? You think you’re the boss of me? Like you’re my dad or something?”

“No, that’s not-”

“Because guess what? I’ve had a dad, and he _died_. And my mum had a bloody-damn parade of boyfriends, and none of them were my dad, either. I don’t need a dad, alright? I’m too old for that shit. I need a friend, just like you need a friend. And a friend wouldn’t boss me around!”

He stared at her and didn’t say anything. Rose felt prickles at the back of her eyes.

“If you want to take me home because I’ve mucked things up so terribly, because I’m one of the stupid apes you hate so much, then do it then! Go on, I won’t stop you! But don’t you _dare_ take me home because you think you know better than me what’s good for me, alright? Because you don’t!” The tears came, unbidden and unwanted, and she felt them splash, hot, on her cheeks. “Reckon I know my own bloody mind, and I know what I want and don’t want, and what I want is to stay here, with you.” Her voice finally cracked. “Don’t send me away, alright?”

The Doctor grabbed her and pulled her to him, hugging her tightly. She let him, and returned the hug. “I don’t want to leave, Doctor. Don’t make me.”

“I don’t want you to go. But I thought you were dead today and couldn’t stand it. I n-" He stopped for a second, taking a deep breath, then went on. "I thought that Dalek had killed you and…” He couldn’t finish.

“It didn’t.”

“You couldn’t order it to die, Rose. Do you know how special that makes you?”

“Not so very special.”

“I killed so many, an unspeakable number. You couldn’t kill a single being that was begging to die.” Rose didn’t say anything to that, she sensed that anything she said in that moment would have been wrong.

“So precious.” He murmured and buried his face in her shoulder, her hair. “Precious, precious girl.”

Rose huffed a watery laugh. “So not an ape, then?”

“No.” He set her back from him. “Not you. Never you, Rose Tyler. You’re different.” He wiped her cheek with her thumb. “I know I’ve said it before, but I’m so glad I met you.”

Rose felt something like _I told you so_ at the back of her mind, and this time she felt fairly sure it wasn’t the music.

“What was that?”

The Doctor dropped his hands. “What was what?”

“Something said ‘I told you so’ in my mind, like it was gloating at you. But it wasn’t me.”

The Doctor looked up at the ceiling again. “Really, girl? My, but you’re cheeky.”

Rose was stunned. “The _TARDIS_ is talking to me?”

“Seems that way.” He flopped back down on the cushions. “Seems she likes you.”

She sat quietly for a minute. “I knew she was sentient and talked to you, but I never thought she’d talk to me. Is that good?” A nodding and warm feeling of affection at the back of her head. “I guess that’s a yes, then.”

The Doctor smiled up at her, then reclined on the cushions again. “I rather think I like you, too.”

Rose smiled down at him, then lay back on the cushions herself. “Good.” 

~*~O~*~

_Rose's eyes looked at him from the monitor, wide and terrified but trying hard to put on a brave front, which was in itself brave. His remarkable, precious girl. So precious. So brave._

_'Don't do it, Doctor. Don't open the bulkheads. Not for me. I wouldn't have missed our time for the world, but I'm not important.'_

_'DOCTOR! YOU MUST SAVE THE WOMAN YOU LOVE OR SHE WILL BE EXTERMINATED.'_

_'Don't do it, Doctor! You can't let that monster kill everyone in the world for one girl from the council estates!' came a voice behind him._

_The Dalek moved forward a couple of inches and jabbed Rose with its weapon, and the Doctor felt the jab in his own back. 'SHE WILL BE KILLED BEFORE YOUR VERY EYES, DOCTOR. I WILL MURDER HER AND YOU WILL WATCH HER CRUMPLE TO THE GROUND, LIFELESS. YOU GET TO CHOOSE AGAIN: SAVE WHAT YOU CARE ABOUT OR SAVE MULTITUDES YOU DON'T. DECIDE OR I WILL DECIDE FOR YOU AND THE YELLOW GIRL DIES, THEN I WILL GO AFTER THE MULTITUDES ANYWAY.'_

_The Doctor was paralyzed with indecision; it was the Time War all over again. He could save Rose or save everyone else. The Earth or his world. How could he possibly choose?_

_'SO BE IT. I CHOOSE FOR YOU,' the Dalek exclaimed in his robotic, metallic voice. 'EXTERMINATE!'_

_Rose screamed then crumpled, dead, just as the Dalek had said she would. The Doctor screamed, then fell to the ground, still screaming, as no one had foreseen._

~*~O~*~

The Doctor woke with a strangled cry, his bare chest wet with sweat and face wet with tears. _Breathe, Doctor. Regulate your body systems._

He tried, he really did, but the dream had been too real, too vivid, too recent to shake right away. He needed the reassurance that she was alright. Climbing out of bed, he pulled on his jumper and trousers and slipped out of his room. 

He should have known better than to try to sleep the night after something like that. It was bound to be a rough night, and he should have known that would be the case. But after his talk with Rose and feeling so good, he'd thought he may be able to rest for a while. Recharge a bit before he had to deal with the idiot prettyboy he'd allowed on board to make Rose happy.

But for right this moment, he needed to lay eyes on Rose. 

He crept to her room and ignored the part of his brain that questioned him seeking her for comfort and what that meant, exactly. The TARDIS darkened the hall when he got to her doorway and opened the door a crack, letting him push it open the rest of the way. The TARDIS raised the light in her room just enough for him to see her lying on her back in bed, her arm tossed over her eyes, breathing steadily and making a little sound that sounded almost like a snore. He knew she'd deny that until the end of time if he ever reported it to her. The thought made him smile. But he had all the confirmation he needed and should really go back to his room. She was alive and safe. He'd saved her today and oh, yeah, the rest of the world, too. 

She was safe, sound and asleep on his TARDIS. The Earth was safe, too, and as he went back to his room, he ignored the part of his brain that questioned which was more important.


	7. Too Far Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He looked down at their joined hands lying on the cushions between them, then over at Rose’s face as she looked up at the ‘enchanted ceiling’, a faint smile tugging lazily at the corners of her mouth, her eyelids slowly opening and closing as she lost the battle with drowsiness._
> 
>  
> 
> _He’d lie to anyone and everyone about all of this to protect the both of them, but he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. Whether or not he was willing to name it, he’d been hopelessly gone for her for a while. His weakness was Rose Tyler. It was nearly impossible to hide the fact that his bias was entirely for her and he wondered if he should even try anymore. He could show a clear preference for her without revealing his true feelings, couldn’t he? He could protect her with his life without the entire universe knowing that he was actually utterly useless when she was threatened, right?_
> 
> _Probably not, but he hoped so._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm drawing a complete blank on how to tag this fic. I'm terrible at tags anyway, but if anyone could throw me some ideas I would _really_ appreciate it.

Adam had proven to be a massive disappointment...to Rose. Not to the Doctor. Unsurprised, him. And although the little prat’d put the entire future of the human race in jeopardy and he really should be angrier about that, what the Doctor felt most was giddy elation that the dumb git had mucked up so badly that he’d had a sound, unquestionable reason to kick him off the TARDIS. Even better, Rose had teased the boy in the end. He hadn’t questioned Rose’s loyalty very long. Her questionable relationship with the boy had lasted all of a few hours before she denounced him after he fainted. And the Doctor had been incredibly smug when he’d heard Adam tell Rose from a few yards away that it would take a better man than him to come between the two of them. 

_Damned right it will, boy._

Rose had seemed to recognise the truth of this and hadn’t argued. Even more blessedly, she propped her arms on the back of his chair just behind his head a few minutes later, announcing them to Cathica as one solid unit. Together. The-Doctor-and-Rose-Tyler. 

Just as it should be.

He was elated.

He hadn’t lied when he told Adam that he was taking the best with him, and Rose Tyler was the best.

~*~O~*~

She surprised him by coming to his workroom shortly after they entered the vortex and he got them stabilised. He was working with a gadget of his own design, something he was actually creating for Rose. If he got it working properly, she could wear it on her person and it would extend the air bubble around her so that they could travel more places, even visit some uninhabitable places, but he was having no luck. A familiar voice and blonde head popped around the corner and called out. “Doctor?”

“Hullo, Rose.” He looked up and smiled, then looked back to the gadget in his hands, scowling at it.

“Am I bothering?”

“No, just tinkering.” He laid the device down and she stepped into the room fully. She seemed apprehensive, and it bothered him. His voice was cautious; he didn’t want to frighten her, and this body tended to be gruff without meaning to be. “Did you need me?”

“No, not really. I just…” Rose cast her eyes to the floor. “I just wondered if you were cross with me. About Adam.”

The Doctor squinted and shook his head. “Why would I be cross with you about _him_?”

“Because I brought him on board, and he turned out to be such a huge prat…”

“S’not your fault, Rose. You didn’t know he was a prat.”

“No, but…” Her eyes were still downcast and he went to her, gripping her shoulders lightly. 

“There’s no ‘but’s about this, Rose. You did nothing wrong.” A single glittery tear landed on his boot, and he enveloped her in a hug. Her tears...he couldn’t abide her tears. Rose Tyler crying was his weakness, and he’d do anything - _anything_ to make it stop. “What’s wrong, Rose? Tell me.”

“I just...I hate being stupid.”

“You’re not,” he said, genuinely surprised.

“Sometimes I am.” 

“Sometimes we all are,” he said. “But what you think is you being stupid is actually your greatest strength, did you know?” Rose shook her head. “You were nice to him. He wanted to see the stars, and you wanted to give that to him. Your kindness and compassion aren’t really an Achilles heel, Rose, they’re a _good_ thing. So what if it occasionally causes a spot of a bother?” He shrugged and smiled. “The same thing that caused a problem today has also saved countless lives.” He pulled away and ducked his head until he could look directly into her wet, brown eyes. “It saved my life, Rose. Your goodness, what you think is stupidity, it saved my life.”

“Oh, stop.”

“You did. Truly.”

Rose bit her lip and he could tell she didn’t know whether to believe him. He had no idea how to assure her, and he didn’t know her telepathic abilities. She had to have some latent abilities, given her ability to communicate with the TARDIS, but he wasn’t sure how far to go to see what she could feel. He sent her a small wave of gratitude, but she didn’t acknowledge it. He decided to leave it. 

“Fancy a cuppa?”

She sniffled and gave out a short laugh. “That anxious to get me out of your playroom, are you?”

“Oi! S’not my playroom!” he said with mock indignity. “Serious work goes on in here, I’ll have you know.” 

She giggled, and he beamed at the knowledge that he’d dried her tears and made her smile. _He’d_ done that. Pride swelled in him. “You didn’t answer me, though. Cuppa? I’ll get it just like you like it. Strong and sweet, like me.” He gave her a big, goofy grin.

Rose outright laughed then, and he smiled even brighter. “You got me pegged, alright. Yeah, I think I fancy a cuppa.”

“I know a great little tea shoppe. It’s just a quick jaunt to the 24th century…”

~*~O~*~

He’d grabbed her hand and told her to run. He’d told her to run for her life. 

He should have done the same thing.

They had been travelling together for five months, three weeks, three days, six hours, twelve minutes and forty-six seconds. It had become a habit for them to go to their rooms to change or have a shower after one of their adventures, then to find one another in the media room, his workroom or the galley and just spend some time together, decompressing. Neither of them had decided to do this, there had been no plan. One or the other just began seeking the other out and it just became Something They Did. It was very comfortable, easy, and healing for both. Recuperative. Quite often, their time together was silent, the two of them having reached the ‘comfortable silence’ point in their relationship. They didn’t need to talk all the time in order to be together and enjoy each other's company, although their chats and conversations were fun and they certainly didn’t suffer a lack of things to talk about.

In the media room they may each read a book or watch telly together, or the Doctor may read to her. Rose quite liked fairy tales both from Earth and other planets, and the Doctor found to his surprise that he didn’t mind reading them to her, these tales of heroes and princesses and castles and love. She seemed to enjoy his voice and accent. He was, of course, quite happy to oblige. 

The Doctor had noticed over the last month that they had scooted a little closer to each other when they sat together during those evenings, gravitating towards each other while watching movies or reading or stargazing until they were holding hands with Rose’s head on his shoulder. Neither of them said anything of it, it was just another little Something They Did. The Doctor had come to relish and crave the contact, though, and the same something that had wondered about where his priorities lay when they were out saving the world niggled at the back of his mind when he began to seek out opportunities to hold her hand. 

When they would lie on the cushions in his workroom and stare at the starry ceiling (Rose, who loved Harry Potter, insisted on calling it the ‘enchanted ceiling), the Doctor would rest his head on one hand, Rose would lay a hand across her belly, and their free hand would find the other’s. The two of them, The-Doctor-And-Rose-Tyler, would lay and listen to the soft music the TARDIS played. The Doctor would point out stars, nebulae, and other formations, telling her about constellations, galaxies, and planets, the peoples and cultures and places he wanted to take her. He would tell her about the music that was playing, people he had met, things he had seen. He’d tell her stories of adventures he'd had, of places he wanted to take her, adventures he wanted to have with her. Rose was a rapt audience, and he was an enthusiastic storyteller. 

He realized not long after they dropped off Adam the Prat (as the Doctor now referred to him in his mind) that he was taking her places that he thought would impress her or please her. He wasn’t going to places he thought might need him so much anymore. If adventure happened while he was taking her to those places, that was fantastic! Rose liked a good adventure, bless. But he was unwilling to put her in danger on purpose. This was a time machine, and those places could wait. Rose Tyler could not. She was too fragile, too precious, and he wasn’t willing to waste a minute of his time with her or risk her well-being by putting her in any serious danger that could be prevented. 

When the thought broke through from the back of his mind that he might be subconsciously wooing Rose Tyler, he nearly regenerated with shock. He decided right then that he should take her back at the first opportunity. 

_But I'm a Time Lord_ , he told himself stubbornly. _Time Lords are utterly unflappable. Trained from birth to handle emotions. Tamp them down to dust, me. Surely and without doubt the cleverest being in the universe can deal with one 20-year-old shop girl. And I'm more than clever, I'm brilliant!_

But he’d always utterly failed at tamping down emotions like the other Gallifreyans and Time Lords, hadn’t he? 

_I can do it when it’s important,_ he assured himself. _I can be everything a Time Lord is supposed to be. Logical, cool and detached. I can turn it all off. And it’s important now. I can do it._

Then he would turn his head to look at her when they were running away from something chasing them, or when he was telling her about the humanoid races in the Andromeda galaxy while they lay in his workroom, or when she looked up from reading her copy of _Haraile and the Golden Sparrow_ that he’d found for her at a festival in 45th century Hetra. He’d look down at her and she would smile at him, her eyes so full of warmth and kindness and happiness and the Doctor felt that maybe - just maybe - his life may not have to be solitude and misery. There was hope for him, and that hope lie in the little human who had taken to curling up against him while they watched Eitakan comedies, laughing together. 

The Doctor had been wrong, dead wrong, and he wasn’t sure if he was pleased or ashamed to admit that. He wasn’t able to tamp down the emotions he felt, even if he was too afraid to name them. It was as they sat one night in the media room, the scent of Rose’s shampoo filling his nose and her laughter shaking him that he finally got honest with himself. 

He should take her home, because he couldn’t turn it off on his own. He was falling deeper and deeper into an unnamed emotional abyss for this girl, but she couldn’t stay forever. One way or the other, she was going to leave him. The Doctor would one day be without Rose Tyler, and he needed to rip the bandage from the wound now before it would be done for him against his will and the pain would be unbearable.

He needed to take her home. He needed to leave her before she left him and he couldn’t stand the pain.

There was no use pretending he could ever forget the Time War; he’d never be able to escape what he’d done. The knowledge that he’d never have a home to go to was a constant presence in his mind, raw and agonizing. The Doctor had always been different from the rest of his peers, certainly, but he was more of an island then. After the Time War he was a lonely, hopeless moon: a dark, cold, dead rock, orbiting nothing. Alone. Bleak. Battered and scarred, pockmarked by the craters of tragedy that come from age.

Then he found Rose Tyler crouched in the basement of a shop, waiting to die, and he’d grabbed her hand and said ‘run’. Almost immediately, she shone bright as the sun and lit the darkness of his black world. He’d warmed under her rays of compassion and hope and kindness, and he’d begun to glow. He was no longer the hopeless moon. 

Rose’s smile sent warmth through every part of him. When she laughed, sound of her joy was music to his ears and a balm to his dark, tortured soul. 

He’d grabbed her hand and said ‘run’. Those three little letters, one little syllable. He’d said it countless times before and would say countless times again, but said that one time in that one place to that one precious girl, that one little word was going to be the cause of endless agony for centuries. He just knew it.

He turned all of this over in his mind for days, weeks after the thought that he should take her home popped in his mind, worrying it like a stone until the edges wore smooth. The Doctor knew as well as he knew the feel of her hand in his that losing her - however and whenever it happened - would break him. 

He looked down at their joined hands lying on the cushions between them, then over at Rose’s face as she looked up at the ‘enchanted ceiling’, a faint smile tugging lazily at the corners of her mouth, her eyelids slowly opening and closing as she lost the battle with drowsiness.

He’d lie to anyone and everyone about all of this to protect the both of them, but he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. Whether or not he was willing to name it, he’d been hopelessly gone for her for a while. His weakness was Rose Tyler. It was nearly impossible to hide the fact that his bias was entirely for her and he wondered if he should even try anymore. He could show a clear preference for her without revealing his true feelings, couldn’t he? He could protect her with his life without the entire universe knowing that he was actually utterly useless when she was threatened, right? 

Probably not, but he hoped so.

Rose Tyler had, in the span of less than six months, reminded him that not all humans were terrible. He was, in fact, in love with one.

But he could be honest with himself. The Doctor, Time Lord of Gallifrey, Oncoming Storm was also a selfish bastard. He couldn’t - _wouldn’t_ \- let Rose Tyler go. He was too far gone.

The Doctor smiled to himself and stroked his thumb across the back of her hand as Rose’s eyelids drooped one last time and didn’t raise back up. Her head lolled to the side a little and his smile grew with the knowledge that she felt so relaxed and safe with him. 

Yes. The Doctor was entirely too far gone, and he’d never let her go. Over his dead body.


	8. Right Thing, Wrong Time, Wrong Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor comforts Rose in the aftermath of Father's Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, thank you so much for the positive feedback. I'd kind of gotten frustrated with this and let it lie for a bit, but you guys have inspired me again. I appreciate you so much. <3
> 
> Disclaimers:  
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The Doctor sat on the grating of the console room holding a sobbing Rose Tyler, his hearts feeling as broken, shattered, as destroyed as the woman steadily wetting his jumper. 

He was a bastard. There was no way around it. He was an utter bastard. 

“I’m so sorry,” she wept into his neck. “Please, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just…”

Christ, he may cry himself. It was a close thing. He squeezed her closer and shushed her, murmuring soothing words interspersed amongst nonsense. “Shhh, Rose. It’s okay. No harm done, everything’s okay. S’not your fault.”

“It is!” she sobbed. “You _died_ and I thought I’d _lost_ you and those reapers were going to destroy the world and it’s all my fault!”

The Doctor nuzzled her hair. “Fat chance of losing me,” he said softly, trying for a bit of levity. “Stuck with me, you are.”

It didn’t take. “You should have left me and just...just…. _flown away_ like I deserved!”

“Oh, Rose…”

He held her closer, stroked her back and tried desperately to communicate without words that he would never, ever have left her behind. How to explain his thoughts without revealing all? For God’s sake, he’d been jealous (yes, let’s just go ahead and call it what it was, shall we?) of her _father_. But he could never, ever, ever tell Rose that. She’d think he was daft and demand to go home. 

Yes, she had disobeyed him, but the poor girl had just seen her father die right in front of her and then asked to do it _again_ , and he’d actually expected her to stand there and put herself through it like some sort of emotionless robot. Like anyone else in the universe with a scrap of compassion, she wanted to save him - if not for _Pete_ and the fact that he was her bloody father, if not even for the fact that she couldn’t stand to see a man die when she knew she could stop it, then for her _own_ sake. 

So she’d leapt out to save her dad, disobeying him, leaving him, choosing someone other than him, and of course she was happy to meet her father! The Doctor could understand that, he really, truly could. But could he see beyond the fact that she’d betrayed him in that moment? No, of course he couldn’t. Because, lest we forget, he’s a bastard. He’d been unable to see what that moment meant to her, what her father and the chance to hug him - something she’d cruelly been denied her entire life - meant to her...he’d not seen any of that, because he’d been limited to seeing only green and red, the colors of envy and anger. 

And then she’d had the gall to say she’d tell her father he wasn’t her boyfriend, and all of that envy and anger boiled over into a Time Lord temper tantrum. He still couldn’t believe he’d called her stupid and demanded her key. What kind of...there were no words for his behavior. 

The Doctor wasn’t sure, even now, whether the words ‘for once’ had made it worse or better when she’d said them; ‘ _For once, you’re not the most important man in my life!_ ’ In the moment, it had just compounded everything, and he’d been an absolute arsehole. 

Now, though, when her angry shout echoed in his mind, the emphasis was on the first two words, inappropriately-timed hope blooming between his hearts at the knowledge that he is usually the most important man in her life

But she’d had the right of him in her apartment: he’d never, ever, _ever_ leave her, no matter how much he blustered, even if now, in his lap, sobbing her pain against his broad chest, she proclaimed that he should have. The Doctor could never abandon Rose Tyler.

When he’d seen the reapers, his thought hadn’t been ‘ _oh no, there’s a rip in time, need to fix that_.’ It hadn’t even been concern about the other people around, not immediately. There was one word in his brain, one single thought that drove him and pumped his legs, flushed his blood around his body as fast as possible to help him to his destination. One word fueled him. 

_Rose._

He'd had to get to Rose. Then he could think about whatever else needed his attention. 

Yelling at Jackie had helped him vent his spleen and feel better for all of two seconds, giving him petty satisfaction until he saw Rose’s small, hurt face asking if this was all her fault. 

He wasn’t able to tell her the truth - that he was so far gone by now that he wasn't able to apply any wisdom when it came to her. That he’d put them all in danger because she’d cried. So he’d walked away and hurt her again, trying to salvage what little was left of his pride. 

Speaking with the bride and groom had been eye-opening for him. Street corner, 2am. Blossomed into love. Now it’s become a wedding and a baby and domestics. No, he’s never had a life like that and he was sure he never would. What he’s had is store basement, living plastic. A girl he can’t lose, and for once in his nine lives, the idea of being domestic isn’t gut-wrenchingly appalling. The way Stuart looks at Sarah, he thinks, is how he feels when he thinks of Rose.

Yes. He’ll save them.

Some warped, perverted part of him had made Rose apologize later before he hugged her. It was insane, because the Doctor had never wanted to hold anyone more in his lives. Maybe he'd just wanted to tell himself that he had some small measure of control over himself or in this relationship, when that was an outright lie. Rose Tyler owned him, body and soul. He was hers, a supplicant, nothing more than a satellite spinning in her orbit and basking in her warmth. The Doctor had looked at her standing before him, vulnerable and sad, and hated himself. He was the Oncoming Storm, revered and feared throughout the universe - yet powerless before this inferior human. He cursed himself because he felt utterly desperate for her forgiveness, and couldn’t bring himself to ask it. He needed her forgiveness, confidence, compassion and warmth like he needed breath, but instead he called her stupid again, then mumbled an apology, told her he wouldn’t really have left her and hugged her. 

The Doctor still couldn’t ask, really ask, for all of the things he needed from her, but he repeated his promise, putting more weight into the words when he spoke them. 

“Rose,” he said gruffly into her hair, “I never would have flown away and left you. Please know that. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I put you into that situation. It was wrong of me and I apologize. Please forgive me.”

“ _You_?!” she wailed, trying to sit up against him, near hysterics. The Doctor hastily sent a wave of serenity and gentle calm to her. “You didn’t do anything wrong, it was all me!”

“I knew better. I understand the laws of time, and knew we shouldn’t have done what we did. I acted against my own knowledge and instincts because…” he didn’t finish that thought. “I just knew better, and then I said horrible things. But I never would have abandoned you. You know that, right?” 

Rose didn’t move for a moment except to sniffle. He opened his mouth to speak but she nodded against his neck and he felt his heart beat again. The calming energy seemed to be helping her. Good. 

“I’m still so sorry, Doctor.” Her voice was watery again. “I should have listened to you.”

“S’alright. We’re both at fault here.”

“I _killed_ you, Doctor!”

The Doctor brushed her hair back away from the wet cheek not pressed against him. This girl had seen her father die twice today, and she was worried about him. Overwhelming, it was. He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve her. He’d be eaten by a thousand reapers every day to protect this girl. 

“I’m here, aren’t I?” She started to protest and he squeezed her a little to hush her. “I’m okay, Rose. I told you I wouldn’t leave you, didn’t I? Had to keep you safe.”

Rose snuffled against him. “Are you- are you going to take me home now?” The last two words started a fresh batch of tears and he gathered her close again, having relaxed his hold a little over the last few minutes. 

“Now, why would I do that?” His was gentle, a little amused, a touch chiding.

“I’ve cocked everything up twice in a row. I’m not the best, I’m rubbish.”

“You stop that, Rose Tyler.” He was still gentle, but his voice was firm.

“I am! I don’t deserve to be here with you.” The Doctor closed his eyes, chasing thoughts of what he should say, what should be kept to himself and what would he shouldn’t even be thinking as he stroked her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. 

He sat back and tugged her chin up. “Now listen to me, Rose, and listen well. You’re not rubbish. You’re human, and you’re the best human I’ve known in a long, long time. Ever, really. I’m not taking you home unless you want to go there, and if you _do_ want to go I’ll take you, but I’ll try to talk you out of it the whole way. I _want_ you to stay, as long as you like.” 

_Please don’t leave me,_ his hearts cried. 

Rose gave him a watery smile and he smiled back, then kissed her forehead impulsively and tucked her head back under his chin. “There now. There’s the smile I like to see.” He held her like that for a while, letting her settle. The Doctor rocked her and she grew quiet; he wondered if she may have cried herself to sleep until she said his name. She was so quiet he may have missed it were he not so in tune to her. The Doctor raised his head and tilted it towards her a bit, giving her his attention. “Yes, Rose?”

She started to speak and stopped, clearing her throat. “Can I tell you something? You may think I’m mad, though.”

He smiled. “I promise not to think you’re mad,” he said, then put his chin back on her head and chuckled. “Well, not any madder than I already do.”

The Doctor heard her smile. Rose was quiet for a minute and he let her gather her thoughts. “I thought…” she began, then paused. Started over. “It’s barmy, I know, but... it felt…” 

He waited her out for a minute before giving her a squeeze. “Go on, Rose. You can tell me anything.” 

She shook her head against his chest, then sat up a bit. Her eyes were swollen and red, and her blotchy skin was marked with blackened lines of makeup, but she was still radiant to him. 

“S’nothing,” she said. “Just a silly thought.”

“I like silly thoughts. Go on, then.”

Rose sighed. “You’ll laugh. Or be angry.” Her voice cracked and he feared his heart may, too. Was his wrath really so terrible? Had he been such an arse that she should fear him? 

“I swear I won’t, Rose. You’re safe. I promise, you’re safe with me. We may row sometimes, but I’ll never put you in danger on purpose and I’ll never, ever harm you. Ever.”

She sank against his chest again and was silent for a while as he stroked her back and arm. He sensed somehow that she was scraping together all the trust and strength she could to tell him something important and odd. Maybe something that scared her. He closed his eyes and sent her a wave of trust, not knowing if she could pick up on it as well as he wanted her to. 

“It’s mad, but,” she began hesitantly, “for a while there, things felt, kind of...right.”

“Well, that makes sense. You were back with your mom and dad.”

“No, that’s not it,” she corrected him. “It’s different than that. It’s like...there was me and you, yeah? And my Mum and Dad and their baby. And somehow...I can’t explain it. Somehow it felt like that was what my life was supposed to be. There was the five of us, and it felt like slipping into a warm bubble bath. I can’t…” She shook her head and kept her eyes firmly pointed towards her feet. “I don’t know. I’m not doing a good job of explaining, I don’t think.”

“Right thing, wrong place, wrong time,” the Doctor said dully.

“I think so, yeah,” Rose said. “Maybe that was it. Did you feel it, too?”

The Doctor sought out timelines rapidly, but everything about Rose was jumbled in great knots, and quite a lot of them ended. They didn’t end in death, they just disappeared. Worrisome. 

“I didn’t,” he said honestly, “But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. I was focused on other things. You were paying a great deal of attention to your parents. I’m not always right, me.”

Rose gave another watery smile, still not looking at him. “Not always right? That doesn’t sound like my Doctor at all.”

_My Doctor._ She’d called him hers. 

Another bridge, reduced to ashes.

Bloody hell, he really was lost to her. 

He smiled at her and couldn't help repeating her possession. “Your Doctor is indeed wrong from time to time. Like when he called you a stupid ape.”

“I deserved it.”

“Don’t make me go into this again,” he griped. “You’re not an ape, you’re the best and well you know it. Now off to bed with you.” He gestured down the corridor. “Go sleep. It’s been a trying day on such a tiny human, yeah?”

“Oi! I thought we were moving beyond the insults?” Rose finally looked at him and his hearts felt infinitely lighter to see a little twinkle there, but no tears.

“S’not an insult!” he protested, then she giggled. _Thank God._ “Oh, you’re clever,” he narrowed his gaze at her. “Quite clever, you are, Rose Tyler.”

She slid off his lap, still giggling. “S’right. And you’re so kind and gentle-spoken, Doctor.”

He nodded, cocking a small smile. “Real sweet talker, me.”

She grinned for a second, then leaned over to kiss his cheek. “G’night, Doctor.”

Rose turned to leave but the Doctor stood, catching her by the wrist. “Rose?”

She turned back to him, and his hand had slid down to her hand, his thumb sliding across the back of her knuckles. “If you need me, come find me. Alright? No matter the time, come find me.”

She smiled again and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek again. “I will. Thank you.” Then she turned and headed toward her bedroom, casting one more glance at him over her shoulder as she entered the corridor and left his sight. 

The Doctor fingered his cheek at the place that her lips still burned, his face dazed, his mind whirling faster than the vortex. 

The TARDIS nudged him at the back of his mind, making a smug, teasing sound. 

“Shut it, you,” he muttered.


	9. Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose ponders where she is in her life, decisions she's made, what made her what she is today, and how she ended up completely in love with the alien she's snuggled up against.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _PLEASE READ THESE NOTES. TRIGGER WARNING._**  
>  There is a description of domestic abuse between Jimmy Stone and Rose Tyler in this chapter. I have tried to separate it out as best I could with about twenty lines of "~*~O~*~'s" at the beginning and end of the triggery portion to make it easier to skip. If a description of an abusive relationship will be traumatic for you, then please, _PLEASE_ , either skip the section or skip the chapter entirely. 
> 
> If you choose to skip the section the upshot is this: Rose was in an extremely bad relationship with Jimmy, eventually fought back and left. It shaped her into the strong, mature, wise woman she is at the time she meets the Doctor.
> 
> If you are in a relationship and feel threatened, there is help for you. Please contact [thehotline.org](http://www.thehotline.org/?gclid=CP3YwL71mcgCFUU6gQodAV8KjA) or [domesticshelters.org](https://www.domesticshelters.org/?gclid=CMKBmtz1mcgCFdgGgQodmTIHUQ), or talk to a trusted friend. 
> 
> You are stronger than you feel. You are beautiful, you are worthy, and you are a survivor.

Education had never been Rose Tyler’s focus. She’d always had other things on her mind; friends, boys... the intricate and dizzying web of social politics that tended to dictate the life of young girls and everything that it encompassed. Rose had been one of those rare, blessed girls who had been given the right kind of cleverness she needed to succeed in all the right areas as a young girl and teenager: she was beautiful and possessed the perfect instincts that allowed her to expertly navigate the minefield of teenage popularity and come out a winner, but she was also the proud owner of the kind of intelligence that let her muck about in class, writing notes to friends and boyfriends, and still pull fair grades on tests. 

Where Rose had been lacking, however - very sorely lacking - was in her ability to see red flags in potential boyfriends. 

Mickey Smith had announced his intention to marry Rose Tyler when she was fourteen and he was eighteen, instantly earning Jackie’s ire. Rose had never seen Mickey as anything but a handsome bloke around the estates, but noticed suddenly that he was always kind of ...around. Her fourteen-year-old brain found this terribly romantic, even if she still didn’t see him as her knight in shining armor. Rose preferred the more daring boys, the boys who did flips on their skateboards and flipped their hair back carelessly, or the boys who took the daring shots and weren’t afraid to deal body blows when they played footie and strutted around afterwards like the heroes they were. The boys who were just a bit reckless, the boys with just a whiff of danger hovering about them. Mickey played hackey sack and laughed with his friends, he went to the pub and watched footie, he was just a bloke. The most reckless thing about him was the speeding ticket he got when Rose was 15.

Rose believed in fairy tales; she dreamed of her handsome prince swooping in to take her away, and Mickey Smith was just a fit bloke from the estates who had always comforted her and walked her home when she fell off her bike. He wasn’t the one. At least, she didn’t think so. She wouldn’t rule him out, though...the whole wide world was open to Rose Tyler, and she intended to explore it. 

Jackie Tyler was smart enough not to forbid the match, knowing all too well that to do so would send Rose careening in Mickey’s direction. So she told Mickey, tersely, that Rose needed to grow up untethered, and if he still felt that way when she came of age then he could come date her daughter. But until then he was to stay away. Mickey was respectful enough to back off...but always he kept an eye on Rose. Rose always knew he was there and both relished and resented his presence. Still...there was a safety net as long as Mickey was around. She could afford to be a little more bold, she figured with the arrogance of youth, because if she got her heart broken Mickey would be right there. Right? He always had been.

At the age of sixteen-not-quite-seventeen, Rose gathered all of her babysitting money and went shopping with Shireen. The two of them picked out the most grown-up clothes they’d ever dared to put on and, dressed to look like anything other than schoolgirls with an English test the next day and armed with their shiny new fake ID’s that proclaimed them to be of age, the two of them went to the local hot spot to hear the band the older kids around the Estate had been talking about. Rose had never felt like more of a grownup than she did when the bouncer of that nightclub checked her ID and waved her inside.

She was sixteen-not-quite-seventeen, out with her best mate for what should have been the most exciting night of her life...but it turned out to be the night that Rose Tyler’s girlhood ended. 

~*~O~*~

There are certain truths that are universal about nearly all teenagers, and those truths certainly apply to nearly all sixteen-year-old girls.  
-Teenagers are a hormonal maelstrom.  
-Even the most outwardly secure girl thinks that there’s something about her that’s ugly, and flattery that she believes to be genuine will turn her head.  
-Even the most level-headed teenager is prone to fits of ‘ _what the hell_ ’ and ‘ _it won’t happen to me_ ’ type thoughts every now and then.  
-No matter what she says, every young girl dreams of a happy ending - even if she’s stopped believing in the reality or possibility of one happening to her.  
-No matter what she says, no matter how strongly she may deny it, if a slightly older man looks into her eyes and smiles while playing guitar and singing, a girl’s defenses are immediately weakened.

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Rose and Shireen were a bit taken aback by their success in the club that night. Their naivety would have been laughable to an adult who knew them, but to Rose and Shireen who just thought they were out on a lark and had no idea the kind of situation they had put themselves in, there was nothing laughable about it. It was giggle-worthy, maybe. Especially when Jimmy Stone started making eyes at a beautifully dressed and sophisticated-looking Rose on the dance floor while he was singing and playing guitar in the band. 

Their initial courtship was very quick, and in hindsight it must have been a well-rehearsed routine for the 20-year-old Jimmy. He was beautiful with big, soulful eyes and the kind of reckless air about him that drew girls like honey - the same air that Rose had always been attracted to. But no matter how many women flitted around him, Jimmy Stone only had eyes for Rose that night, brushing everyone else aside. 

He travelled around with his band, he told the starry-eyed young Rose: just the greater part of London for the moment, but they were on the verge of hitting it big, he said. And oh, what an adventure that would be! Rose was utterly enchanted. Finally, she had met a dashing bloke who wanted to whisk her away, take her far away places. She was entranced, her head spinning. Her prince had come, he was wielding a fender telecaster and drove a beat-up Toyota. Not quite the fairy tale she had imagined, really, but oh, he was beautiful. And he played _guitar._

Rose had fallen hopelessly in love well before he kissed her between the second and third sets, and had decided she would follow him anywhere before the show was over, when he urged her to her knees in the alley behind the club with a mixture of sweet words and firm pressure and gave her instructions on how to please him. 

After three dizzying weeks full of acoustic ballads, dates to the chippy, sexual exploration for the innocent Rose, screaming tirades from Jackie and the cold shoulder from Mickey, Jimmy Stone, tortured artist, talked Rose into dropping out of school, getting a job and moving in with him. Her mother pleaded with her not to go and Mickey broke his silence to warn her that Jimmy Stone was a bastard with a bad reputation. Her mother threatened to call the police. It was all to no avail: she was in love and that was that. Her life’s path was set, and she was going to travel the country and then the globe on the arm of Jimmy Stone. But for now, she just had to pay her dues. Even Cinderella had had to scrub the floors before she went to the ball. 

~*~O~*~

Rose had never known her father and no relationship of her mother’s had ever lasted very long, so she didn’t have much of an idea what a healthy relationship was meant to look like, but she was fairly certain it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Rose took a job waiting tables three days after her last day of school and paid most of the bills while Jimmy sat on the couch and strummed his acoustic guitar, drinking beer with the other blokes in the band. Rose was annoyed but it was okay. He was an artist, he said, and that was all part of the creative process. She believed him, because they had each other and were in love, right? Of course they were. He wouldn't lie to her. But, oddly, there were no new songs coming from these endless couch jam sessions...only discussions of drinking and sex and musicians. Surely that wasn't part of the creative process? When Rose asked, he laughed at her and called her a moron, told her she didn't understand art.

Jimmy wanted sex every night, no matter how tired Rose was. Being the dutiful girlfriend she did as asked - saying no resulted in guilt and thinly veiled threats about girls at the pub and outright statements about how he could find another whore on the estates who would put out if she didn’t. He didn’t need her, he said. There were tons of better-looking birds that were willing to give him a quick fuck. Rose told herself that he only said those things because he was stressed out, the band was cutting a demo, that once the band started going and really hit their stride, things would be better. Plus she loved him, so she let it slide - no matter how much it nagged her that everything felt wrong. Arguing back only agitated him, and he grew snider and meaner. Rose finally just did as he said.

It didn’t take long before she discovered the other things that made him angry - and so, so many things made him angry. There were lots of times that nothing she did seemed to make him happy. If she didn’t bring home enough tips, he exploded about what a useless cow she was and he didn’t know what the hell he kept her around for. At first Rose yelled back, telling him to get a job and stop being such a useless lump on the couch, maybe that would help with the rent, but he just yelled louder and called her names. If the flat were a wreck, he’d shout about what a lazy bitch she was and he was sick of her shit. She fought back for a while, but gave up when it seemed pointless. 

Life went on like this for two months before it occurred to Rose that Jimmy wasn’t treating her this way because he was stressed out, he was a bastard and she’d made a mistake. She didn’t know what to do, though...could she face her mother? Could she escape? Would Jimmy really make her life hell if she tried to leave? She did love him, after all, she told herself. He'd say he was sorry for being a git sometimes and rub her back or something. And there were times that he was incredibly sweet to her. Didn’t those times make up for the bad times? Surely they did. They had to. She justified his behavior to herself, and let herself be dragged down further and further. 

It was another two months before she realized that the bruises she kept seeing on Jimmy weren’t bruises - and that she hadn’t put them there. Rose was crushed. She’d never felt lower in her life...he’d made threats and comments, but she hadn’t thought he’d actually follow through on them. 

When she confronted him, he laughed at her and told her that if she wasn’t going to put out for him as much as he wanted, then he could have his fun wherever he wanted. Then he’d grope her, another woman’s marks all over him. Rose felt hot shame, anger, betrayal, and grief for everything that she had left behind. She wanted her mother, but going home in shame seemed so impossible. Her mother surely wouldn't take her back, not when she'd fallen so far.

Three days after she realized Jimmy was messing around he came home and tried to paw at her again. The moment that his hand touched her waist all of the shame, sadness, grief and myriad emotions that had been pulling her down into a depression disappeared, as if being broken off and tossed aside. She was left with fury and disgust, the instinct for self-preservation racing through her veins. Rose pushed him away, telling him to fuck off. He informed her with a snarl that he would do just that; he would be at the pub having a good time and she’d be best off to stay home where she belonged.

Rose was left behind, her mind clear for the first time in months, a sense of primitive, growling power she didn’t question awakening in her. She felt strong. She felt intelligent. She felt in control. 

Rose Tyler had had enough. She'd waited for this moment without knowing it, but she was done. She hadn't made a sound while he treated her like something he despised. She'd told no one. It was the very last time. No more. 

Education had never been Rose Tyler’s focus. She’d dropped out of school and she’d not gotten her A-Levels. But she had grown up on the estates, she’d been raised by a single mother who had done what she had to do in order to bring up a daughter on her own. Rose was clever and tough. 

She began to make arrangements, hoped for a peaceful exit, and prepared for the worst. 

~*~O~*~

Jimmy came home from a gig two days later drunk with his neck covered again. Rose said nothing, didn't acknowledge the hickeys. He egged her on, told her he'd met a girl named Noosh who wasn't quite the nagging bitch she was. He pushed her further: gave her the same lines, staggering around their lounge, drunk and calling her a fucking cow. Rose gritted her teeth and remained quiet. He told her that he and Noosh were leaving in two days, but if Rose didn’t want him sleeping with some other bitch, he said, she should get down and do what he liked and maybe he might consider blowing Noosh off. Now’s as good a time as any. 

Rose refused, telling him that this was the very last time that he would speak to her this way, she was sick of his shit. He could leave, and good riddance to bad rubbish.

Jimmy grabbed her by the hair, yelling in her face that she would obey him or he would make her pay for it. 

Rose swung at Jimmy with her fist, connecting solidly with something. The two grappled until his bandmates came up the stairs behind him a couple of minutes later, pulling the two apart. The police were not far behind, having been summoned by neighbors. 

Police noted that the combatants seemed to be one Jimmy Stone with multiple contusions, a fat lip and scratch marks on his face, screaming about how the crazy bitch was going to hit him. Rose Tyler was against a wall a cricket bat poised to swing, daring Jimmy to come one step further. She had a bleeding lip, several bruises, a torn shirt, her knee was bleeding and she was sporting several cuts from some glass she'd fallen into, but there was triumph and fire in her rapidly blackening eye. 

After questioning her and determining that her role in the dispute had been self-defense, the police returned a stronger, wiser, tougher seventeen-year-old Rose Tyler to her grateful, tearful, happy mother at the Powell Estates. The police told Jackie Tyler that they’d never seen such a young girl fight back quite like Rose had. 

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Rose Tyler: brilliant, clever, strong Rose, now full of the wisdom and mettle that comes from a trial by fire, set about picking up the shattered pieces of the life she had left behind when she ran away with Jimmy and, at the ripe old age of seventeen, began building her life anew. Rose had come through the ordeal remarkably undamaged; considering what she had gone through, everyone expected her to be much more fragile and broken...but those people didn’t know Rose Marion Tyler. She’d been a fool, and she wasn’t going to be a fool anymore. She’d been pushed around, mocked, made a doormat, and there’d be no more of that, thanks. She wasn’t going to be pushed around anymore. Jimmy Stone had degraded her, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to be treated like dirt again. Rose had learned her lesson and learned it well. Once she paid off the £800 debt he’d left her with, she’d be shot of him and that was that. 

Rose was no longer a child; Jimmy had stolen nearly all of her innocence. But he’d not damaged her hope, her faith in herself, her sense of who and what she was, her belief in the goodness of people, her compassion, her ability to love. He’d been unable to dim her flame, and she still shone brightly. But her willingness to take anyone’s shit was greatly diminished. Her street smarts had grown a great deal. Rose miraculously kept her kindness and compassion, but she was also leather and steel. 

She was also still a teenager, though, and had dropped out of school. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do and floundered for a while. This wasn’t unexpected - it was unreasonable to expect any teenager to be set on a career path, especially a teenager who had been thrust into adulthood so young. Rose decided to stay with her mother for a while and work, just to gather her wits. She needed a respite, and her mother was only too happy to have Rose under her wing and watchful eye again.

Rose put off Mickey’s advances for over a year, saying that she wasn’t ready to date anyone after such an experience, but the truth was that she just didn’t want to date _Mickey_. He was her best mate, and as much as she loved him, she just didn’t _love_ him. But Mickey was safe, and that was alluring after Jimmy. She never felt any danger from Mickey; he worked at the garage, he watched footie, and he hung around the Estate with her. That was his life. It was a safe life, predictable. Rose didn’t worry about Mickey getting mad because she picked up an extra shift at the shop, or calling her names because some bloke looked at her in the pub. If she got in trouble she knew she could call Mickey and he would be there. 

But Rose also knew that with Mickey, that would be her life. What there was now was all there would be. Beans on toast. Telly. A baby or two. The Estates. 

There wouldn’t be any excitement. There wouldn’t be any adventure. She’d be giving up the dream of a handsome knight swooping down to take her away if she said yes to being Mickey’s girl. 

Eventually, Rose decided that she’d tried the adventurous route and it hadn’t gone so well for her. The smart thing to do, the grownup thing to do, would be to take the safe route. 

She said yes to being Mickey’s girl. Every day after, she wondered if she had done the right thing. He was sweet to her and was safe, yes. That was certainly a refreshing change. He never called her names, he was always there when something went wrong. But Rose’s life took on a routine...her job, Mickey and her Mum filled her days, and she had little else. It was mind-numbing.

She longed for more.

And then one night at work the dummies came alive. Out of nowhere, a bloke with a northern accent and crew cut grabbed her by the hand, said “run,” and all of the sudden there was a brand new route open to her again. 

~*~O~*~

Rose still couldn’t pinpoint what had made her decide to jump into that blue box with the Doctor. She had every reason not to. The adventurous route had gone so spectacularly wrong just a couple short years before. 

But when she threw out the thought that maybe the dummies were actually college kids, he’d told her that it was actually a good idea. She’d felt no threat from him, even though he was completely gruff and dismissive of humans to the point of rudeness. She didn’t believe him guilty when he blew up her work, not realizing until later that he’d actually done it on purpose. She’d felt instantly comfortable with him, and his hand felt like it had been specially crafted to curl around hers perfeclty. 

He’d not talked to her like she was stupid - well, not really. Even though it seemed that he didn’t think much of humans in general, he still talked to her like she was worth something. She felt clever talking to him, which was something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. And the Doctor had wanted to protect her; Rose could sense it, could see it in his blue eyes, could hear it when he called her name and pleaded with her to leave because the living plastic was invading. Mickey cowered behind her, quivering like a stupid lump while the Doctor begged her to save herself. 

So when he’d asked her to come with him it had only been Mickey Smith, wrapping himself around her legs and begging her to stay with him that kept her from leaping at the opportunity. Mickey was safe. Mickey was guaranteed. Mickey wasn’t dangerous. 

She said no, the Doctor’s face fell, her heart sank, the TARDIS dematerialized, and Rose stood in that alley for a long moment, the breeze generated by the TARDIS blowing her hair all around her face, knowing that she would regret what she had just done for the rest of her life. 

Then, miraculously, as if he had heard her thoughts, the Doctor came back.

Jimmy had made her feel like less because he’d degraded her, hurt her and called her names.

Mickey had made her feel like less because she knew she was worth far more than what he was offering; that she would never reach her potential if she stayed with him. 

In the few hours she had spent with him Rose knew instinctively, deep down in her gut, that despite his disparaging comments about humans the Doctor wouldn’t make her feel like either of them had. That good things would come from climbing into that blue box with that madman.

Rose Tyler may not have her A-Levels, but she was not stupid. She hesitated only long enough to kiss Mickey’s cheek and tell him goodbye before dashing into her destiny.

~*~O~*~

The Doctor had said and done things over their months together that led her to believe that maybe he cared for her beyond the friendship he would cop to. When she’d asked him if it was always dangerous, he’d nodded excitedly and told her it was, but she’d noticed a marked decrease in danger after their first couple of weeks together. Usually. For the most part, now, if they came across danger it was because it jumped out at them unawares. They tended to be problem-solvers or tourists these days, sometimes peace-negotiators. They only occasionally went looking for danger.

Rose noticed that the Doctor’s protective instincts over her seemed to have gotten stronger in the time they’d been together, as well, and the snark about humans had lessened, particularly once he caught on that she didn't like it. He threw out the occasional comment every now and then if he were angry, but he'd only once insulted her directly and had apologized. Profusely. It had felt genuine, and she believed him. What's more, when he said he was sorry, he didn't repeat the behavior over and over regardless of his words. All of it was just so...different. 

The Doctor had certainly never wanted her in any danger from the beginning - their entire relationship began when he rescued her - and never let her get into any danger that he could help, but he became fiercely protective of her as time went on, starting very early. She first became suspicious of him and his interests in her when they were trapped in the Cabinet Room on Downing Street and his fear was no more than saving the world but losing her. The Dalek’s proclamation that he was in love with her didn’t stop that niggling thought, either. But she would have been able to brush aside both of those as a ‘best mates’ sort of thing were it not for the increasing amounts of circumstantial evidence backing it. 

There were times that he looked at her and she was sure that, for a moment, she saw something in his eyes that she wasn’t supposed to. He looked at her like no matter what he showed her, she was the thing he wanted to see most. He watched her for her reactions to the things he showed her and the places he took her, like her reaction was the only thing that mattered and if she didn’t like it, then it simply wasn’t good enough. He would find something that was impressive enough for her. Her happiness _mattered_ to him, and Rose had never had that in her entire life from anyone but her mum.

The two of them held hands - a lot. And at first it was a matter of convenience or comfort. Rose would slip her hand into his to reassure herself that she wasn’t alone, that the Doctor was there and he would keep her safe. The Doctor would take her hand gently to remind her of the same thing. They would grasp hands when they were running away as a practical measure to keep each other close, to keep from getting lost. 

But those small, practical, comforting touches became more frequent, with the excuses and rationalizations becoming thinner and weaker. 

They held hands because the situation they were currently in was a bit like another one they had been in that was dangerous, and they wanted to reassure the other that no matter what happened, they were there. 

They held hands because the festival was crowded and Rose had a tendency to wander off. 

They held hands because one of them didn’t like the look of that orange bloke over there. 

They held hands as a show of solidarity. The-Doctor-And-Rose-Tyler were a cohesive unit, and it was best to let the universe know it by presenting themselves as partners.

They held hands because they were afraid.

They held hands because they were happy.

Finally, by mutual unspoken agreement, they just accepted that they preferred to be in contact with each other and held hands or hugged whenever the mood struck. 

And it wasn’t very long after that that Rose began nuzzling herself into the Doctor’s side when they read or watched telly together. She (or he) would raise his arm and pull it away from his side, Rose sliding under it and curling up against him, then sigh contentedly when he let his arm drape around her. Neither said anything about it. Neither had to. Rose didn’t particularly want to talk about it, and it seemed the Doctor didn’t either. She was perfectly happy to lie with her ear against his chest, listen to the odd beat of his hearts and tell herself over and over again, firmly, that the Doctor was just her best mate. That’s all. Just her best mate.

Her best mate that she trusted with her life, that made her single heart flutter every time he gave her that silly grin that took over his entire face and made her feel like she were the most precious thing in the universe - and he would know, he’d seen it all. Her best mate that soothed all of her worries just by wrapping her hand in his, whose voice she heard in her dreams. 

Her best mate. The man she never, ever, ever wanted to leave. 

~*~O~*~

Developing a crush on the Doctor had happened by degrees but she couldn’t tell, looking back, when she’d advanced to each level. They all blended together like the colors of every sunset on every world he’d shown her: smoothly and seamlessly, beautifully blended and inextricable. 

It had started innocently enough: the Doctor was her protection. Running to him when something dangerous and alien was happening was simply the smart thing to do because she knew instinctively not only that he would protect her, he would make everything okay. Touching him in some way was just confirmation of that - the hard muscle under the smooth leather was a reminder that there was someone who would fight to keep her safe.

Rose thought she could pinpoint when it eased into comfort, although the line between the two is often so thin it was easily blurred. When she watched the Earth burning with her eyes prickling uncomfortably, he offered his hand. He seemed to know that she needed something from him, and know exactly what would be soothing. He was right, it was exactly what she needed and was comforting, and she accepted it. She had offered a shy reciprocation when he brought her back to London and they went on their ‘first date’; she knew that he had just made himself very vulnerable and wanted to offer the same comfort he had just given her. Rose slid her hand easily into his, and the pattern began. 

But that’s where it became tricky. From that moment, Rose didn’t know when the meaning behind those simple, platonic touches (and the increasing frequency, as well as the duration of said touches) changed. But they had certainly changed. 

Rose began to crave physical contact with the Doctor, as well as just being in his presence. She’d taken to hanging around the console room when he tinkered on the TARDIS, the two of them talking about nothing and everything, her handing him some oddly-named tool and feeling proud when she got it right. She learned to read his moods and even how to work him a bit in those moods. 

She had learned him enough to tell when a little gentle teasing would draw him out, and when to just leave it. When he needed her to be a shoulder, and when he needed to work through something on his own. She learned when to show up with his tea (two sugars, no milk) and when he wasn’t in the mood. When to chatter and distract him and when he just wanted companionable silence. But she thought that she was the only one who craved this closeness...until she realized that he sought her out, too. And that the Doctor’s hand reached for hers as much as she reached for his.

Her urge to touch him bothered Rose. She found herself trying to remember the smell of his leather jacket and feel of his arms around her at odd times. She’d wish his hand were holding hers and was surprised sometimes to find her own hands clasped together with fingers interlaced, as if trying to placate themselves until the Doctor held one of them again, relieving it of its loneliness. 

Craving became want. Want became longing. Longing became need. Rose _needed_ closeness and contact with the Doctor. She was a girl with a crush. She would rather have kissed a slitheen than admit any such thing, but after nearly six months she didn’t seem to be able to stop herself showing it. The Doctor certainly didn’t seem to mind, even if he seemed a bit oblivious. 

And oh, how he made her feel. The Doctor lifted her up, made her feel like the most cherished, precious thing in the universe. Rose felt the overwhelming urge to rise above whatever he may expect from her and be the best. She desperately wanted to prove that she wasn’t a stupid ape. He was so impressive and she wanted to impress him right back - but Rose was no idiot. She was not willing to be something she wasn’t, she just wanted to be _better._ She wanted to live up to the beauty he was showing her every day. He inspired her with his heroics. 

Yet even when things went wrong, even when she failed, even when she was completely, unutterably _apelike_ , the Doctor would hold her, comfort her, tell her she was the best and that her weaknesses were actually a strength. He still looked at her as if she were the rarest of rare gems. He still sought her out when there was danger... when the sky was falling, ghosts were animating corpses and unspeakable creatures were swooping down devouring people, the Doctor still ran to her, frantically searching for her until he found her and made sure that she was safe by his side before he’d lift a finger for anyone else. 

Then, when whatever world they were on was safe again, the two of them would come back to the TARDIS - the blue box he’d told her in no uncertain terms to think of as her home - and spend time together, almost always touching in some way, the contact often initiated by him. 

The Doctor made her feel _cherished_ , and she basked in the feeling like warm sunshine.

It was a heady, dizzying feeling. She’d never felt this way about Jimmy or Mickey, neither had ever even _tried_ to make her feel this way, and she had no idea what to do with the feelings. She had no idea what to call the fluttering, buzzing emotions taking over her heart and mind. 

Rose had a sneaking, slinking suspicion that she might be in love - truly in love - for the very first time in her life. It should have been terrifying, really. She should have been scared to death. She’d thought she was in love once before, and had ended up...well, in a bad way. She had no desire to go there again, and if that’s what love got you, then bugger love.

But as she nuzzled into the Doctor’s side, curled with him on the couch under a throw blanket while they watched Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, she realized that she wasn’t afraid at all. There was no way she could feel anything but wonderful with his right heart beating just under her cheek and his arm pulling her just a little bit closer to him protectively. 

Rose slipped her arm onto his chest, feeling the wool of his jumper and the thud of his left heart under her hand. She heard him let out a tiny laugh on a breath, a small, happy noise, and lay his cheek on the top of her head, accepting the affection from her. 

Jimmy had made her feel worthless. He’d knocked her down and she’d had to struggle to bring herself back up.

Mickey had made her feel like she’d never be anything more. She could count on him to come when she called, to give her a safe routine in her life, to be there to dust her off after she fell... but she’d always be confined to the restricted life he offered. 

The Doctor made her feel like she was everything. He offered her all of time and space as her playground, hand-picking the most beautiful, fun, safe places he thought she’d enjoy, seeking only her pleasure and asking nothing in return. He kept her closer than a heartbeat, watching over her protectively. He challenged her, laughed with her, encouraged her, taught her, was a safe harbor for her. She never worried about him knocking her down or letting her fall: if she were in danger he’d be there to catch her in his strong arms.

Rose sighed and closed her eyes, a small smile playing the corners of her lips. No, she wasn’t afraid to love the Doctor. He would never love her. No matter how much she wanted him to, no matter what that Dalek said, no matter how much they held hands and no matter how good it felt to cuddle, the Doctor would never love her the way she loved him and there would never be anything between them. She told herself that she could and would learn to accept that their relationship would always be one-sided in a lot of ways, but she would never have to be afraid with the Doctor. He’d never let her fall. He’d never really hurt her. 

Rose knew that she was precious to the Doctor, that he cherished her, and she’d never, ever give that up. She’d fight to stay with him as long as he let her.

The best part, though - the part that she was almost afraid let herself think about - was that sometimes, when hope got the better of her, she let herself believe that he may never want to give her up, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I labored over this chapter, and eventually had to just post it and run away. The description of Jimmy and Rose's relationship is loosely based on my own first marriage, and it was hard to write. But Rose is a much deeper character, much tougher and mature at 19 than one would expect (way, _way_ more mature than I was), and I think that's glossed over a lot. A bad relationship can either make or break someone, and I think it made Rose Tyler. In all the DW fics I've read (and sweet Lord I think I've read just about all of them), I've never seen anyone explore Rose's backstory and what made her what she is in any great detail, particularly the Jimmy Stone relationship. Having had my own spectacularly bad relationship that made me what I am in a lot of ways, I used that experience, knowledge and wisdom when I wrote this. This was an immensely difficult chapter to write, and it ended up being a labor of love. I wanted Rose to have her voice, too, and to explain where her head is. 
> 
> I'm projecting a bit here, and I know I am. I'll own it. But hopefully I'm projecting good things.
> 
> Bumping the rating because of this chapter's content.
> 
> disclaimers:  
> I own nothing.  
> All mistakes are mine.  
> I really, really appreciate your feedback.  
> caedmonfaith.tumblr.com


	10. Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Rose meet Captain Jack.

Jack Harkness had lived a lot in his years, although there weren’t so very many years to his name, he was still quite young and virile _thankyouverymuch._ Two were missing. Looking back on it now, he realized he’d been destined for an adventurous life from the start, and being a Time Agent had provided that in spades. He’d seen wars, visited incredible worlds and learned about myriad cultures, and...oh yeah. He’d had sex with just about every sentient being he’d come across.

That was an exaggeration, of course, but not by much. Jack had figured out early on that his sexual desire was not limited by gender, race, species, or any other barrier, really. When you factored in that he was almost unnaturally good looking with beautiful eyes, a bright smile and cleft chin, he became dangerous. But Jack was also a charmer, one of those people with the rare gift to make anyone and everyone feel special. 

Given this trifecta of looks, personality and charm, Jack Harkness was a romantic force to be reckoned with. There were untold people across time and space with broken hearts, pining for the Captain. 

But even given how easily romance and sex came to him, no matter how much it seemed that aliens, men, women, and mixes between the three threw themselves at him, Captain Jack Harkness could honestly say that at no point in his life had a beautiful blonde girl literally fallen out of the sky into his arms and life. 

~*~O~*~

Jack glanced down at the psychic paper and smirked. The girl, Rose, clearly had hints of psychic abilities but absolutely no control of them. The message on the paper she handed back made that abundantly clear.

_Rose Tyler_  
_Earth, 2005 (is it 2006 yet? Maybe 2007 since we missed that year.)_  
_Tell him you have a boyfriend named Mickey. (But he’s not, really.)_  
_Make the paper say it anyway. (But Rose, think of the Doctor.)_  
_What if he meets the Doctor and says something? (Fair point.)_  
_Make the paper say it. Also "footloose and fancy-free"._

Jack was deeply amused by the internal conversation he saw on the paper. He was still fairly certain she was a Time Agent, her lack of finesse probably just meant she was an intern or something. Didn’t matter, really. Even if this plan fell through, it wouldn’t be the end of his world. He was ready to get the hell out of wartime London, money or no money. If this didn’t work, he was headed to the Titanic. 

But this Rose was young, beautiful, and her head was turned. Jack was a bit intrigued by this ‘Doctor’, but Rose fluttered her lashes and stuttered over words. She, at least, was going to be an easy mark personally - even if the Chula ship con didn’t work, he knew this blonde in the Union Jack was going to be something good for him. God knows he needed something...he was stifled and miserable in the RAF. A little pursuit, some healthy competition with this ‘Doctor’, and scoring some money off of him as well...sounded like a great night to Jack Harkness.

~*~O~*~

Rose Tyler descended from the top of Jack’s spaceship feeling positively dizzy. It had nothing to do with the height (although she had to admit that being side-by-side to Big Ben was more than a little unsettling) but it was entirely the fault of the American who had held her, looked into her eyes and danced with her as the very air around them exploded. At no point had Rose had anything remotely that romantic happen to her, and it left her head spinning. 

But then, as always happens in these things, the clock struck midnight (even if Big Ben remained silent beside them) and reality - such as it was - was taken out of stasis. Jack wanted to talk to the Doctor, and Rose found that she very much wanted to see the Doctor, too. The Time Agent had said things that the Doctor needed to know about immediately. And Rose, for all that she was flattered, knew that her place was beside the Doctor. It was the only spot she was guaranteed safety. The ‘prettyboy’ (and she even heard that word in a Northern accent now) may have turned her head for a mo, and she wouldn’t deny it. But she was craving the security that only the owner of that soft burr could provide.

She was glad when Jack scanned for alien tech and located the Doctor. It would cut down on the time before she was beside him again.

~*~O~*~

Rose chattered incessantly about the Doctor on the way to the hospital, singing his praises, and the Time Agent realized that she was going to be a challenge. This 'Doctor' had her attentions pretty firmly in hand. It wouldn’t stop him from trying, though. She may lead him on a merry chase, but he’d eventually wear her down. He almost always did.

Then he spent time around the two of them. He recognized defeat before the battle even began properly. The two of them were clearly very close, and it didn’t escape Jack’s attention that Rose reached for the Doctor, checked on him, stayed very close to him and always within sight. The Doctor's protectiveness of the girl fairly rolled off of him in waves.

This wasn’t a battle he’d win, and he knew it. Still, Jack Harkness had never backed down from a challenge, and even though this would be quite the challenge, the fun wasn’t always in the win. 

Let the merry chase begin.

~*~O~*~

The entire night had been such a departure from any of their other adventures that his head was still spinning a little. 

Or maybe the blonde in his arms was the intoxicant, leaving him dizzy. She was looking up at him like she’d wished on every star that had ever fallen and suddenly, her wish was here, holding her close. The Doctor thought that perhaps he was projecting with that last, because he certainly felt the same way.

Then again, perhaps not. Perhaps she felt the same way he did. He’d never believed in miracles, but if she did feel the same way he did, he’d never deny them again.

He’d been presented with one of those rare moments in that storage closet, locked in with Rose, where suddenly there was a choice to make that he didn’t know he had. Two paths lay before him, and he had to choose which one to take while Rose looked at him, her hand outstretched, her eyes twinkling. 

There was the path he’d been on, and in his mind’s eye it was a long, dark route that he would walk alone. There was little comfort, no solace, and there was the added torture of having Rose near but never being able to touch her - not really. Not the way he wanted. Not the way he craved. It was paved with loneliness, regret, sorrow, longing, and guilt. 

Then there was the road suddenly offered to him: an off-ramp, really. A detour, an escape, a temporary route. He envisioned it as a beautiful trail through shaded wood: comfort, joy and happiness his companion for every step. Rose stood at the entry to that path with her hand held out, asking him to ‘dance’, and he was so, so very tempted. 

But all detours eventually lead back to the original road, and so would this one when Rose inevitably left him. Her timeline was still cobwebbed, and quite a lot of them simply ended. Just disappeared. He had no idea what that meant, but it frightened him. 

The prospect of loving this woman and losing her was the most terrifying thing that the Doctor had ever faced. 

But he wanted her. He needed her. He _loved_ her. Oh, how he loved her. 

The Doctor had sensed something from Rose, something warm and glowing, something that he craved but refused to name. It had grown over the last couple of months, gotten easier to perceive and harder to ignore, and finally the Doctor couldn’t deny it anymore. He could, however, pretend ignorance to what it was. And he had done so, vehemently refusing to acknowledge that she felt something other than warmth towards a friend.

She was affectionate because he kept her safe, he told himself, justifying the emotion he felt flowing from her very skin. He was a father figure, he told himself. He was her best mate. Rose held him in high esteem and admired him for those reasons, but she didn’t _desire_ him. How could she? He drilled these thoughts into his own head.

But the Doctor was also no fool. He knew exactly what she was up to in that hospital from the time that she’d arrived with Jack - she’d been trying to egg on the jealousy between him and that RAF tosser. Yet she sought him out for comfort when she was afraid, she asked if he was okay when they fell, her hands reached for him and touched him lightly with little or no provocation...her instinct had been him, when she hadn’t been deliberately putting her mind to Jack. The Doctor had been under no illusions that ‘dancing’ was anything other than a euphemism. 

He knew perfectly well that Rose Tyler was telling him, in her coy, human female way, that she wanted to choose him, but also longed for romance. 

He’d jumped down and gone to her, stalled for time, and then surrendered. He’d pulled her into his arms and tried like hell to keep the raw, naked desire he knew was in his eyes to a level that wouldn’t scare her away. He concentrated instead on how to make her keep looking at him like that, and the fact that she was actually asking him to dance. 

He’d been a maelstrom of emotion when they found themselves on Jack’s ship, but one thing he felt was a little kernel of pride. He’d never wanted to punch someone so badly in his life as he did Jack Harkness in that moment - he’d finally had Rose in his arms and the American bastard interrupted. The git had ruined everything. But he wasn't at all surprised that he hadn't noticed the teleport. Rose's whisky-brown eyes were bottomless, for him.

Despite his frustration, he hadn't decked the prettyboy. And Rose’s flirtation with Jack had stopped. 

Then they’d saved the world (again) and the Doctor was fairly certain that nothing could make his day better.

But it had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to take a break for a little while after the last chapter. It was intensely personal to me, and people had to talk me out of deleting it. Once I got my head clear, though, I sat down to this chapter and started work. I can honestly say that no chapter has ever given me such a rough time as this one and the next. Me and it fought tooth an nail, but here you go.


	11. Slow Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Jack comes on board, and Rose dances with the Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always:  
> I own nothing but the mistakes.  
> If you are reading this, thank you. You flatter me. Any feedback you could give would be so appreciated, and makes me a better writer.  
> Come talk to me! caedmonfaith.tumblr.com

When they got back to the TARDIS, Rose asked about Jack and his fate. The Doctor considered her for a moment before setting the coordinates. If Jack’s ship blew, then it would no longer be ‘ _everybody lives_ ’. It would become ‘ _everyone who didn’t make eyes at Rose lives_ ’, and the Doctor was above that. Besides, it was Rose asking. And all the gods knew how much willpower he had when it came to her.

So they’d picked up the prettyboy, Rose had offered him a dance, and the Doctor had staked his claim. 

The Doctor had picked up on some minor psychic ability from the yank prettyboy and he used that to his advantage. When he swept Rose into his arms and twirled her around the console, he looked at Jack, making eye contact. 

_She is not for you. Do not touch her._

Jack had sent back the mental equivalent of a nod, and the Doctor sensed sincerity and acceptance from him. It wasn’t enough for him to trust the new man, but he did relax just a bit. 

Everyone had lived. Rose reciprocated his feelings, at least in part. And he thought that maybe, just maybe, there may be a few decades of joy lying ahead for him. 

All was right in the Doctor’s world. 

~*~O~*~

Rose’s head was spinning, but it wasn’t anything like getting pissed at the local. And it certainly wasn’t like the dizziness she’d felt after dancing with Jack. The Doctor had her in his arms, was twirling her around and holding her close against him. He looked down at her with those blue eyes and she wanted to believe she saw all of the things she felt for him reflected back at her. 

This was was joy. This was euphoria. This was _bliss_ , and she never wanted to feel anything but this for the rest of her life. 

The reason for this new found _joie de vivre_ was grinning broadly and leading her around the console room, twirling her out occasionally and then catching her in his arms. He had been for ( _hours? seconds? minutes?_ ) and Rose was sure, when he pulled her up from another deep dip and looked into her soul with his own sparkling blue eyes that it was entirely possible to die from happiness. She was well on her way. 

There was something in his eyes tonight that she’d seen before in tiny glimpses, during unguarded moments before he shuttered himself again. Tonight, he wasn’t hiding himself. He was letting her see, and Rose gasped aloud when she had a moment of clarity and realized what that look meant. 

The Doctor loved her, too. 

At that moment, when it hit her during their second dance, it wasn’t only Ella Fitzgerald singing. Rose’s heart burst into song.

He seemed to know the minute she made the connection. She felt his arms tense around her and his face darkened for just a moment. No words were said, but Rose was certain that if he were talking, he’d be saying ‘ _is that alright?_ ’

As if he’d actually asked, she smiled and given the most infinitesimal nod, barely a movement of her head. The Doctor’s face had brightened, then, and she felt his arms close around her just a little more snugly, pulling her just a little closer. His thumb made one up-and-down stroke on her back, under her jacket, then he spun her away again. 

She was glad he hadn’t let go of her, because she was sure she’d have floated away.

As the third song began, Rose had caught sight of Captain Jack standing by one of the coral struts, just watching with a faint smile on his face. She situated herself just a bit closer to the Doctor (which was no hardship) and murmured in his ear, “Doctor, we’re being terribly rude to Captain Jack.”

“So?”

She’d smiled at him then, and the broad smile he gave her back was enough to set her heart beating against her chest like a butterfly trying to escape a cage.

“We should be more hospitable. He’s a guest, after all,” she admonished, then put her tongue between her teeth. 

“Would you like to dance with Jack, Rose?” he asked quietly.

“Not in the 51st century guy kind of way,” she replied. “But a turn around the console would be polite, don’t you think?”

The Doctor looked over her head at Jack and his face changed entirely for just a moment. Rose looked up at him, a bit confused, then he looked back at her with a soft smile. “I’d like to dance with you some more, Rose, after, if you don’t mind.”

Rose had bitten her lip and shook her head. “I don’t mind at all. I’d like that,” she’d said, a little breathlessly. 

“Right, then, off you pop.” The Doctor twirled her towards Jack and he caught her expertly (Rose suspected he was an expert in almost everything to do with women) and the Time Agent looked to the Doctor one more time. Rose sensed an entire conversation was passing between the two but all she heard was, “Take care not to step on her toes, Harkness.”

Jack had agreed and spun her away. He was an excellent dancer, and no mistake. But Rose’s eyes kept returning to the Doctor, leaning against the railing with his leather-clad arms crossed, watching the two of them. His eyes never left Rose, and that look was there again. The one Rose wanted to believe meant that he loved her, too. She was sure she’d be wobbly if it weren’t for the Captain holding her upright. 

“Are you alright?” Jack had asked, concerned.

Rose looked up at him and nodded. “M’fine, Jack.” Then she looked over at the Doctor, catching his bright blue eyes and felt a thrill of delight when she saw how he was looking at her. “Better than fine,” she said. “Fantastic.”

~*~O~*~

The three of them celebrated the night away. The TARDIS produced a little champagne and continued to play period music, and the console room practically vibrated from merriment and happiness. 

Rose laughed with delight when the Doctor and Jack both took turns teaching her to swing dance, and she proved herself an able student. Jack heard the Doctor say with a smile that he’d be happy to take her to wartime New York City to visit one of the dancehalls there, but then he added something else in a lower voice Jack couldn't hear. It seemed to please her: she’d beamed back at him and said that she’d like nothing more. 

“Fantastic.”

Jack watched the two of them dance together with a small smile, reading both of their expressions and body language. They were quite clearly completely smitten with each other, and he knew instinctively that he’d never be able to wedge himself between the two (no matter how much fun that sounded). Rose seemed to like him well enough and she was absolutely beautiful, but when they’d danced on the roof of his ship, she’d not looked at him the way she was looking at the Doctor right now, with utter adoration, and he knew that he’d not looked at her the same way the Doctor was looking at her, with something akin to reverent devotion and disbelief. 

They were in love, the two of them, and he had the feeling that he was intruding on an important turning point in their relationship. Even knowing that he had been the catalyst, he decided to leave the two of them in their own world. 

He cleared his throat. “Doctor -”

The Doctor looked up from Rose, still looking a bit dazed, smiling genially as they came to a stop nearby. “Yes?”

Jack didn’t miss the way the Doctor hadn’t entirely let go of Rose, still held her hand in his. Rose twisted their hands just a bit and threaded their fingers together. Neither of them acknowledged the change, not even a change of expression or flick of the eyes, and Jack had a feeling that the two of them touching casually was just a matter of course. 

“Do you have anywhere that I could sleep?”

“No,” he said immediately. Rose jabbed him. 

He looked down at her, his brows knitted, then sighed and looked back up at Jack. “Yes, of course I do. Best ship in the universe, this. Plenty of room. The TARDIS will have a room ready for you already, I’m sure.”

Jack waited for him to finish that statement, but the Doctor apparently didn’t have anything else to say so he asked, “Okay...how do I find it?”

Rose smiled at this oversight, and her grin turned knowing when the Doctor didn’t answer right away. Jack could almost see the other man’s wheels turning. 

“I’ll show you,” Rose offered.

“No,” the Doctor said abruptly, squeezing her hand just a bit. “There’s no need. The TARDIS will take him straight there.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at the Doctor. “Sentient?”

“Best ship in the universe,” the Doctor repeated. “She’ll have prepared you a room by now, and I’m sure you’ll find it to your liking.”

Jack nodded and stepped forward. “Thank you, Doctor,” he said and took the Doctor’s hand to shake it. “For everything.”

The Doctor regarded him skeptically, and Jack didn’t blame him. He noted again that the Doctor’s hand hadn’t uncurled from Rose’s, and doubted it would. 

“Rose,” Jack said, bending over to take her free hand and kiss the knuckles. “It’s been a pleasure. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.” Rose blushed and the Doctor’s arm shot around her waist protectively, possessively. _Ah, so I_ was _able to get him to let go of her hand_ , thought the Captain, allowing himself a wry smile. 

“I’m sure we’ll all see each other quite clearly very soon,” the Doctor said. “Good night, Jack.”

Rose smiled. “It was nice to meet you, too, Jack. Goodnight.”

Jack gave Rose one more dazzling smile, then turned toward the Doctor. Rose shrunk into the Doctor’s side in response, smiling and biting her lip, and the Doctor narrowed his eyes at him.

They weren’t cute. They were fucking adorable. 

“Goodnight, you two.”

He left to enter the corridor, noting that the TARDIS had turned on lights as if to guide him. He followed, but turned back at the last moment before the console room was completely out of sight. 

The song had changed, and Jack recognized [Artie Shaw’s ‘Stardust’](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PBGdCpEliT0). The Doctor gave Rose a little bow and pulled her back close to him, nearly flush, much closer than she had been while Jack had been in the room. Rose slipped her arms around his neck and the Doctor held her waist, both oblivious to everything but each other. 

Jack shook his head with a smile and turned to follow the ship’s directions. Living with these two was going to be interesting, he was sure. 

~*~O~*~

It didn’t occur to Rose until later that the TARDIS had been playing only slow, romantic songs since Jack had gone away to bed. Ella Fitzgerald’s voice filled the console room as sang about how she was[taking a chance on love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MrnDYriNH5A), Perry Como sang about how he’d be in love ['til the end of time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xSJ-oT2ZBa0) , and [Frank Sinatra](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhZ2X9znPxM) asked to be flown to the moon. They said very little, yet Rose felt she may explode from all of the things she was thinking and feeling. As always, though, the Doctor was steady and strong before her. Instead of saying anything she leaned forward and lay her head against his firm chest, the comforting beat of his left heart thudding gently against her cheek.

He said nothing, only held her closer while they swayed back and forth.

Rose found herself getting sleepy and cursed her traitorous body. She never wanted this moment to end, she never wanted this spell to be broken. She wanted to stay curled in his arms forever, in this one moment where she was sure he loved her. Tomorrow, she may wake up and none of this had happened. The thought was abhorrent, and she tried not to let her mind think about it. If she stayed wrapped up in this little cocoon...quiet against the chest and in the arms of the Doctor...maybe the morning would never come... Bing Crosby sang [Only Forever](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNCt6hkCUic) and the words swirled around her...

Rose yawned and the Doctor leaned his head back. “You’re tired, Rose.” It was a statement.

“No,” she protested weakly. “I’m fine, really.”

He smiled down gently at her. “It’s very late.”

She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him that she could dance all night and had no desire to go to bed, but a yawn came out instead. The Doctor chuckled. “Bedtime for little apes, I suppose.”

Rose sighed. “I suppose.”

He took a step back and she fought back a groan, the coolness of the TARDIS' air replacing the warmth that she’d just been snuggled against. Rose stepped forward involuntarily, swaying just a touch from the loss of him against her, but he reached his hands out and caught her elbows.

“Alright there?”

She looked up at him, his bright blue eyes gazing back down at her with concern and what she fully believed to be love, and bit her lip when she nodded. His eyes flicked down to her lips and she pleaded with him silently. _Please kiss me. Please, Doctor. Bend your head and kiss me._

“C’mon. Let’s get you to bed.” He slid his hand down her arm and lightly grasped her hand, looking down at their entwined fingers before he looked back up at her with soft eyes, then started walking slowly with her towards her room. 

The Doctor had never walked with her to her room before, she’d always found her bed on her own. Suddenly very awake, Rose’s pulse thudded, clanging bells inside her brain. The Doctor was walking her to her room. Would he want to come in? Would he kiss her? When was the last time she had picked up her clothes from the floor?

Her mind whirled and churned until they got to her door, and the Doctor stopped. Rose didn’t know what to say, and it appeared he didn’t either. They stood in silence, Rose studying everything around her that wasn’t the Doctor, before he spoke. 

“Thank you, Rose.”

She finally looked up at him, and her blush was bright. “I didn’t do anyth-”

“You’ve done more than I can ever tell you,” he said quietly but fervently. “Not just today.”

“But today was wonderful,” Rose said. “Our best yet, I think.”

He grinned. “I think so.”

She looked at him shyly for a minute. His eyes were dark, and she could see the question in his eyes with everything else. He reached up to cup her face and Rose closed her eyes. 

_Kiss me, Doctor. Oh, please kiss me. Please, please let him kiss me._

The moment was heavy, pregnant with opportunity. She waited. Rose had the fleeting thought that probably looked daft with her face turned up to his and her lips parted ever-so-slightly, inviting, but she didn’t care. She just kept pleading with him in her mind for him to kiss her while the moment grew longer and longer, stretching like warm taffy.

Rose felt his cool, soft lips press a kiss to her forehead and her eyes closed tighter, pinpricks at the back of her eyes. 

“Goodnight, Rose,” he said on a mumble, then let go of her and walked away. 

By the time Rose opened her eyes, he was gone. The hurt sliced through her, and she did her best to blink back the tears when she closed the door to her room on the empty hall, alone.


	12. Meddlesome Yank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack sees two morons completely in love with each other but refusing to act on it. He acts in their stead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should have been the easiest chapter to write, but I could _not_ get it to cooperate with me. Finally, I've just decided to go with what I've got and hope for the best. It's far from my best writing, but it gets the point across so I can move forward. 
> 
> I'm going to try to update every Monday or Tuesday. That's my goal. :)

Rose was glad to have Jack on board now. He was light, somehow. Fun and airy and almost endlessly cheery. He joked, he played with her, he even flirted with her...although Rose noticed that the flirting had changed dramatically since he came on board. She wondered why occasionally, a stray, idle thought, but really didn’t care to find out. Her heart belonged to the Doctor and she didn’t want anyone else, anyway. It was just as well.

She felt so bloody stupid when she thought of the Doctor. She could give herself a slap for falling for that daft alien. She’d thought for one shining moment that maybe - just maybe - there could be something between them. She had thought he cared about her beyond the platonic, and she still thought he might. Rose had wondered about that for months, but when they danced in the console room...the look in his eyes, the way he held her close, the way he touched her. Her heart had sung love songs and she’d nearly floated around the console in his arms. _He loves me_ , she’d told herself. Let herself believe. _He loves me. The Doctor loves me, and I love him. It’s happening._

But then it hadn’t happened. She’d been wrong, and she’d cried herself into a stupor before falling asleep that night. 

Rose had tried to go back to the way they were in the week since then, but she was too hurt and confused to really let things be as casually affectionate as they had been. She could tell that her reticence was hurtful to him, but she couldn’t help it. Eventually, over the course of several days, they got back to where they had started - more or less. But Rose still occasionally thought about how stilted things were there for a while and the reason for it, and the hurt would come back. 

He didn’t want her. He had just gotten caught up in the joy of the moment, she supposed. It hadn’t meant anything to him - not like it did to her. It was agony. 

“What’cha thinkin’ about, Rosie?”

Rose looked up from the bit of nothing she’d been staring at and looked over at Jack. He was munching popcorn and drinking some sort of 42nd century beer that he swore was the best throughout all of time and space. To Rose, it had just tasted like beer. 

“Nothing,” she said and gave him a bright smile.

“Bullshit.” He leveled a smirk at her with a twinkle in his eye. “You’re thinking about the Doctor, aren’t you?”

She blushed at being caught. “Why on Earth would you think that?”

“Well,” he said. “You either don’t mention him at all or talk about him until I’m afraid my ear will fall off. And you always get that look right before a Doctor Discussion.”

“What look?”

“The sad look. Wistful. Then you start talking about him like you’re trying to drive the thoughts away.”

Rose eyed him suspiciously but his eyes were sympathetic, understanding. Jack had become a good friend to her since he came on board, and just in a couple of weeks she’d become very close with him. Eventually, she knew, she’d tell him how she felt about the Doctor. She was sure she could trust him. 

“He’s crazy about you, you know.” 

“Now it’s my turn to call ‘bullshit’,” Rose smiled. 

Jack looked at her seriously. “Rosie, no man looks at a woman the way he looks at you without being completely and utterly in love with her.”

“He’s _not_ , I tell you.” Jack looked at her with something between annoyance and pity. “He’s really not, Jack. I had thought...well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. He’s not.”

“How long have you two been like this?”

“Like what?”

“Completely besotted but refusing to acknowledge it.” Rose made a noise of protest and he went on, “I’m guessing it’s been a while, well before I came on board.”

“Jack, if he were in love with me, he would have made some kind of move by now.”

“No, he wouldn’t. He’s a stuffy old Time Lord. What do you know of the Time Lords, Rose?”

She shrugged. “Very little. Only what he’s told me, and he doesn’t talk about them much.”

“Okay, well maybe this will give you some insight into what’s going on in his brain.” Jack re-positioned himself on the couch and pushed the popcorn bowl a little closer to her. “Time Lords believed themselves superior to every other race and species. They considered humans beneath them; they thought of humans as barely evolved.”

Rose gritted her teeth a little. “Stupid apes.”

“Yes. And it was forbidden to mate with one.”

“Well there you go then,” Rose said with bitter triumph. “I’m barely evolved and he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“No, Rosie. See, the Doctor doesn’t believe that about humans. You know that, even if you’re being stubborn.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It _does_ matter. Because he’s in love with you, Rose.”

Rose just shook her head. 

“It’s true. And he wants you, but he’s afraid.”

“Of what?” she demanded.

“Oh, scads of things, I imagine. I’ve never asked. But the question here is, do _you_ love _him_?” Rose just scowled at him. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Rose burst out angrily. “So what if I do? I’m not going to beg him to love me back. You can’t make someone love you, Jack.”

“He already _does_ love you, Rose. He just needs a push.”

“Well, he’s not getting it from me.” Rose crossed her arms and set her jaw. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

“What kind of girl?” 

“The kind that chases blokes.”

Jack snickered. “The Doctor is _hardly_ a boy.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “I know that, Jack. But the point still stands. I watched my mother moon after men all my life, making eyes at them, flirting all the time, and every single relationship failed. I swore I wouldn’t be like that.”

“Every relationship fails until you find the one you're mean to be in. That's the one that sticks. But that's beside the point: you don’t have to be like your mom. You can be yourself.”

Rose muttered, “I’ve not exactly had stellar luck myself.”

“Bad relationship?”

“The worst.”

“You’re so young though, Rosie!” Jack protested. “It can’t have been that bad.”

“Oh, no? You think moving in with a man who smacked me around and forced me to do...things...that I didn’t want to do at the ripe old age of sixteen isn’t bad enough?” she said defiantly. “I’m no little girl, Jack. I may be young, but I’m not a child.”

Jack’s expression darkened. “He hit you?”

“Yeah.” Rose began to sense that she’d gone too far and shouldn't have told him that. 

“Just what kind of things did he make you do?”

“I’m not talking about this, Jack. Let’s just say he wasn’t a gentleman.”

“I’ll kill him,” Jack declared, scowling.

“No, you won’t. He’s in prison.”

“I can get into prison and kill a man.”

Rose smiled a little at that. “I don’t doubt you could, but you won’t. There’s no point. I’m away from him, he didn’t keep me down for long, and that’s all that matters.”

“Does the Doctor know about this?”

“I’ve never told him,” she said, a bit uncomfortably.

Jack softened. “Are you afraid the Doctor would do that to you, Rose?”

“What? No! Never!”

“Is this guy what’s holding you back?”

“No, not really. It’s more the memory of my mum making a fool of herself over and over.” Jack opened his mouth to protest and Rose cut him off. “I refuse to behave the way she did. And even if I did, I’m not good enough for him, just like you said.”

“I never said that and you know it. And just because you let someone know you’re interested in them doesn’t mean you’re chasing them, Rose.”

“He knows how I feel. There’s no way he could _not_ know. And there’s nothing more for me to do. If he wants me, he’ll let me know.”

Jack sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Rosie. Just...don’t deny yourself over some hangup you have about your mom. Your mom was chasing guys who weren’t head-over-heels in love with her. We’re talking about you letting yourself hold hands with and snuggle up to a guy who _is_ madly in love with you. I just don’t want you to lose what could have been the best thing that ever happened to either of you.”

“There’s nothing to lose, Jack. Because there’s nothing there.”

Jack sighed again. There was no benefit to belaboring the point.

~*~O~*~

The Doctor found himself grudgingly respecting his newest shipmate and - God help him - sometimes he even _liked_ the smarmy yank. Not that he’d ever admit to it, not even when Rose tried to wheedle it out of him that she’d been right all along. No. Not admitting anything, him.

But he _had_ developed a healthy respect and occasional like for Jack Harkness utterly against his will. Jack was clever, cunning, handy in a fight, quick on his feet, and level-headed….most of the time. And it wasn’t long before the Doctor discovered what Rose had picked up on instinctively - Jack really did have a heart of gold beneath his swagger.

It appeared that the con-man’s attempt at conning was simply a way to attempt to recover his memories, and the Doctor could hardly fault him for wanting them back (even if his methods left a lot to be desired). Underneath the bluster and flirting and attitude, the American seemed to be a genuinely good person. Perhaps best of all, though, was how much he cared for Rose.

Oh, he’d been smart enough to heed the Doctor’s warning and hadn’t tried to put ‘the moves’ on Rose, but his two shipmates had gotten quite close regardless. The Doctor knew that Rose was sweet on Jack and vice versa. The two of them had developed something of a sibling bond, and the Doctor was glad. The couple of times that Jack had lost his cool had been when Rose was in jeopardy, and he guarded her nearly as protectively as the Doctor did. Jack had learned early on, however, not to let Rose know she was being protected. Rose didn't take to mollycoddling.

Still, the Doctor had come to a point that he could see Jack’s concern for Rose simmering just below the surface and appreciated it - especially when Rose-The-Jeopardy-Friendly inevitably wandered away and needed help.

Jack’s presence had also had an unexpected benefit when it came to Rose; after the Doctor mucked up on the night of Jack’s arrival - ‘The Night We Danced’ as his mind preferred to call it - Rose had withdrawn from him (predictably). His panic that she may flee the ship was relieved a bit when he saw how the two of them had taken to each other. And it had only taken a day or so before he realized there was no romantic heat in the way Rose and Jack talked to each other.

But oh, the misery of those couple of days.

The Doctor had been self-flagellating for losing the nerve to kiss Rose at the last possible second, then he found Jack with the object of his love (no point in denying that fact, really) the next morning, sitting at the table laughing uproariously at some story from Jack’s past. The story that had her in gales of giggles the morning after The Night We Danced involved Jack being naked and running for his life from some a Miajer’s jealous mate. The Doctor’s own hearts burned with jealousy, and the burning intensified as the day wore on and he found them together over and over again, laughing, reminiscing.

The Doctor knew now, beyond any doubt, that Rose cared for him in a similar way that he cared about her. He wouldn’t put the l-word into her mouth, but there was something there. Some spark. He had felt it coming from her for quite a while, and there really wasn’t any ignoring it anymore. He’d been poised to act on the mutual attraction, but had backed away at the last moment, like a bloody fool. He knew he’d hurt her and he kicked himself mercilessly for it. At the time the reasons he’d pulled away made sense. They didn’t now, though, not really. He recalled everything he’d told himself: he was too old, too jaded, too...everything for her. He’d outlive her by millenia. She was so young, and he feared the capriciousness of her youth. All of these were valid reasons, and they made sense.

But they were crumbling. His will was dissolving in the light of her smile and the knowledge that she wanted him.

He had no idea how much longer he could last.

~*~O~*~

The Doctor was under the console when Jack found him. He’d been trying to recalibrate the TARDIS’ gravity stabilizer - at least, that was his claim. Really he was just tinkering. His mind worked best when his hands were engaged...but this time he wished he could just shut his mind off.

It had been three weeks since they took on the Captain and the Doctor went the way of the coward when Rose expected him to kiss her. It had taken a bit, but Rose had eventually warmed back up to him and the two of them went back the relationship they’d had before meeting Jack. They held hands, they cuddled on the couch, she came to find him at night and they spent time together. He was thrilled that things were back like they were.

He was miserable because things were back like they were.

He could have been holding _her_ instead of holding her hand when they lay on the pile of cushions in his workshop and stargazed. They could have been curled together in his bed (or hers!) instead of on the couch under Jack’s smirking gaze. He could have had it all, but he’d lost his nerve. 

At least things weren’t completely ruined. That was something, he supposed.

The Doctor heard the footfalls across the grating and he recognized Jack's heavy walk. Maybe he should have been bothered by it, but Rose hadn’t come by and Jack was useful under the grating from time to time.

“Hey, Doc!”

“Don’t call me ‘Doc’,” the Doctor groused good-naturedly.

“Sure thing, Doc.” Jack plopped down onto the grating, his feet dangling into the entrance. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

“Where’s Rose?”

“Taking a nap,” Jack said easily.

“She alright?”

“Rosie?” Another blasted nickname. The Doctor didn’t know if he was warmed or annoyed. “She’s fine,” Jack continued, oblivious to the Doctor’s thoughts. “Said she hasn’t been sleeping well.”

“She could have told me,” he grumbled. “I’d have done something to help if I had known.”

Jack didn’t say anything, and the Doctor went back to his tinkering as if the other man wasn’t there. The silence was companionable, and the Doctor worked for a few minutes until Jack broke the silence.

“Say, Doc?”

The Doctor didn’t bother correcting him. He just replied with the sonic between his teeth, garbling his speech a bit. “Yeah?”

“How long have you and Rosie been a thing?”

He pulled the screwdriver out of his mouth. “A _thing_?”

“Yeah, you know, a _thing_.” Jack replied. “How long have the Doctor and Rose been Doctor-and-Rose?”

“We’ve been traveling together for several months. Better part of a year.”

_Nine months, one week and four days,_ his brain supplied, as if he didn't already count the days.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Jack’s voice held a hint of an edge, but the Doctor didn’t rise to the bait. Jack changed subjects. “Do you need a hand down there?”

“You think I’d let you touch my ship?” the Doctor asked incredulously, despite having Jack's help multiple times before.

“Yep,” Jack replied. “I think you’re going to sulk for a minute because I’m right then say something like, ‘well come on if you’re coming’ and I’ll get down there and prove that I’m not the layabout loser you want to think I am.”

The Doctor actually stopped his work to scowl at Jack for a minute. Bloody bastard was grinning at him. _Git._

“Alright then,” he said, turning back to his work. “Don’t fuck anything up, or I’ll toss you out the front doors.”

“Aye-aye, cap’n.”

The two worked in relative silence, passing tools and exchanging necessary information, then Jack came back to the subject he'd started with.

“You never answered me about you and Rose.”

“There is no _me and Rose._ ” His speech was garbled again by the screwdriver.

“You see, Doc, I would believe you, but I have eyes. There’s definitely a _‘you and Rose_ ’. I’m just curious as to how long it’s been going on like this.”

“Like what?” the Doctor demanded, pulling his sonic out of his mouth and whirling his head around to stare at Jack.

Jack was utterly unperturbed. “Well, you see, whether you acknowledge it or not, you and Rose are a couple.”

“We are not!” 

_Oh, how he wished._

“Sure you are.” Jack was completely unruffled by the Doctor’s glare. “It’s absolutely obvious to everyone you come across. Everyone but the two of you. Why do you think people always ask about _you_ and Rose, but never ask about _me_ and Rose? Because it’s palpable, Doctor. It’s so _obvious_.”

The Doctor didn’t look at him, just gritted his teeth.

“She’s in love with you, Doc.”

“I’m aware that she cares about me.”

"Maybe you didn't hear me. She's _in love_ with you."

"Doesn't matter."

Jack turned to face him. “What in the almighty hell is your problem? Don’t you love her?”

The Doctor shook his head and grumbled. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“I’m older than she is. And it’s not like I’m a decade older, I’m _nine centuries_ older. She deserves better.”

“But she wants you.”

“She’s wrong. Eventually she’ll see that I’m the worst possible option for her.”

Jack stared at him for a minute, but the Doctor didn’t look up. Jack seemed to be sizing him up, then turned back to his work and muttered.

“Pardon?”

“I said that you're the most hardheaded ass I've ever come across. You’ve got everything you want in your hands. It’s right there, Doc. _Right there._ But you’re too much of a fool to do anything about it, and you’re going to miss your chance.”

“All I want is for her to be happy.”

“And all she needs to be happy is you.”

“So much you know,” the Doctor said, turning back to his work again. “Nobody could be happy with a miserable old git like me. Especially someone so young. Who’s to say she won’t change her mind in six months? Humans are fickle, specifically young human females.”

Jack was quiet again for a few minutes, reassembling the small motor the the Doctor had given him. After a while he asked, “Do you know what happened when she was sixteen?”

“What do you mean?”

“With the guy.”

“I know she had a boyfriend and it didn’t go well. Jimmy, I think his name was.”

“Did she tell you _how_ it didn’t go well?”

“Nope. I figured he was just as fickle as other young men and took off with another girl.”

“He beat her, Doc. He beat her and...well, he forced her to do things. He made her get a job to support him then called her names when she didn’t make enough money for him. And you’re right; he did cheat on her and flaunted it right in front of her.”

The Doctor stared at Jack, agape. “That’s not something to joke about, Jack.”

“I wish I was joking. She mentioned it a little over a week ago, and eventually I pried the story out of her. I wanted to go murder the bastard, but she wouldn’t let me.”

“Why would she tell you this?”

“Because it was one of the reasons she had for not pursuing you.”

“She thinks I would do those things?!” The Doctor was outraged.

“No, not at all,” Jack said calmly. “She wasn’t specific, kind of danced around the topic, said something about Stone and her mother."

"That's another thing. Her mother _absolutely would not_ approve."

Jack snorted. "Since when has anyone's approval about anything made a damn to you? But that's not it. Her mother pursued men and it turned Rosie off to it. She says she doesn't want to be like her mom. But I get the impression she still thinks she’s not good enough, somehow. She thinks she’s not worthy of you.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! Rose is….she’s….she’s _everything_.”

"I know she's everything to you, Doc. And you're everything to her. It's written in capital letters across the sky for everyone to see. You just have to tell her that you love her, because she's feeling like she doesn't deserve you."

The Doctor studied the screwdriver in his hand for a moment. "Rose deserves the universe."

"The only thing she wants in the universe is you."

The Doctor lay his head back against the support beam he was resting on. "I do...care about her, Jack."

“Don’t tell me that, tell her.” Jack looked unconcerned and the Doctor scowled at him while he worked.

“I can’t, Jack. I can’t even be trusted with my own hearts. I can’t take hers, too.”

“It’s already yours, Doc. You just don’t know it.”


	13. Logic vs. Emotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is sick, Jack is wise and the Doctor is introspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cribbed and reworked a line from 'Steel Magnolias'. Fifty imaginary internet points if you find it. :D
> 
> I could really use a beta if anyone is interested (I'll keep you busy!)
> 
> I may not be able to update next week...I'm in a frenzy trying to get ready for NC Comic Con.
> 
> Now the usual...  
> ~ All mistakes are mine, nothing else is.  
> ~ I love and appreciate every single one of you. Feedback is appreciated, but honestly - if you're here and reading, I'm so grateful for you.  
> ~ caedmonfaith.tumblr.com

It was bound to happen. With her being a human, automatically giving her less of an immunity to - well, everything. Jack was protected by virtue of being from the 51st century, when vaccines and general physiology had improved to the point that humans were immune to most alien viruses and infections. 

But Rose’s autoimmune system was still delicate, a result of living on Earth in the 21st century. The fact that she hadn’t gotten sick before now was something of a miracle. 

They returned from Nekam after successfully finding a solution to the problem of failed terraforming in the southern hemisphere. The Doctor felt sure that the soil additive he’d come up with would work, and it was easily synthesized by the Nekamites so they shouldn’t need him again. They’d thrown the three time travelers a ball to celebrate the turn in the tide of events, and the Doctor had offered up only token protests when he saw how excited Rose was for it. He no longer had the excuse of not dancing, after all. 

They had just finished a dance and he was walking her to Jack (who had asked politely for a dance with minimal eyebrow-waggling) when she complained that she felt a mite dizzy. The Doctor allowed himself to think for just a moment that he’d produced such a feeling until he noticed her frowning when she said it. 

During the ceremonial dance of the Nekamites, he asked her why she looked so unhappy.

“My head is beginning to hurt.”

The Doctor frowned with concern. “Did you have too much to drink?”

“No, not at all. Just the one glass of wine with dinner.”

His frown deepened. “Maybe we should go back to the TARDIS and check you out.”

“No, let’s stay.” She smiled and put her hand on his arm reassuringly. “M’fine, really, just feeling a bit off. Nothing to worry about.” Then her tongue poked out between her teeth. “‘Sides, I don’t get to dance with you nearly enough.”

He smiled down at her, trying hard to hide his concern, knowing he was failing.

~*~O~*~

She was quiet when they got back to the TARDIS, and the only answer she would give as to why was, “Headache. M’fine.” The Doctor did his best to accept this at face value, but didn’t really believe her. 

He went to the library, not really expecting her to join him. Jack wandered in and the two of them were debating what movie to watch when Rose came in. He always thought she was beautiful, no matter what, but tonight she looked worn. Haggard. He bit back the question he knew she’d rebuff.

Jack held nothing back, however. “Jesus, Rosie, you look like shit. Are you alright?”

She gave him what would have been a withering look under normal circumstances, but had no power behind it at the moment. “Thanks, Jack. Always a charmer, you are.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I only meant that you look like-”

“Hell?” she supplied, easing herself onto the couch between the two men. 

“Rose, you look like you don’t feel well.” The Doctor jumped in and bailed Jack out.

“I don’t.” Her answer was simple and he was alarmed to see the weakness in her eyes. She curled into the Doctor’s side, pulling her feet up under her, then nudged Jack with her feet, urging him to get up. “Shift, Jack. I want to lay down.”

He did as she instructed. It was well-established by now that both of the males on board the TARDIS would bend themselves into a pretzel to please her, but she tried hard not to take advantage of that. Rose was no pampered princess and expected not to be treated as such. It was a mark to how poorly she felt that she issued an order and expected it to be obeyed. 

Rose reached to the place he’d been sitting and pulled the pillow from the corner, laying it on the Doctor’s lap. She tugged her favorite blanket (the one the Doctor had bought her) from the back of the couch and covered herself snugly, curled into fetal position, resting her head on the pillow in the Doctor’s lap.

Jack and the Doctor exchanged concerned glances.

“Rose,” the Doctor asked gently, pulling her hair back from her face tenderly. “You alright?”

“I just don’t feel well, please don’t make a fuss.”

“I worry.”

“ _We_ worry,” Jack threw in.

“Yes. We worry.”

“M’fine. Just a headache. Can we have a fire? I’m cold.”

The Doctor and Jack exchanged another look, but the Doctor nodded. Jack jumped up, heading towards the hearth.

“So,” the Doctor said, trying hard to keep the concern out of his voice as per her wishes. “Since you’re not feeling well, I suppose you get to pick the film tonight.” He stroked Rose’s arm lightly.

“Don’t care. Something without a lot of explosions or yelling. M’head hurts.”

The Doctor tugged on her shoulder a bit, trying to get her to roll over and meet his eyes. “Rose? Are you sure you don’t need to just go to bed?”

“M’fine. You’re making a fuss.”

The Doctor backed off and scrolled through the movies, eventually landing on a 28th century comedy he thought she may like. 

~*~O~*~

Forty-five minutes into the film, Rose rolled over so that her face was to the Doctor’s belly. He pulled the hair back from her face and noticed she felt touch warmer than usual, but it was toasty in the library due to the roaring fire Jack had started and she was huddled under the pink blanket. It made sense for her body temperature to be a bit higher. The Doctor tried to push away his worry. 

Thirty minutes later, she started whimpering, and he didn’t bother trying to be unconcerned or to abide her command that he not make a fuss. 

“Rose?”

She muttered something unintelligible, and he brushed her hair back from her face where a lock had fallen under her nose. 

She was burning hot. _Oh, no. Oh, shit_.

“Jack, Rose has a high fever,” he announced. “I’m taking her to the medbay.”

“I’m right behind you.” 

The Doctor stood, lifting Rose into a bridal carry. She didn’t wake and her head rolled against his shoulder. It was hot against him, even through his jumper, and she moaned when a shiver took her. “Cover her, Jack.”

Jack sprung forward to drape her favorite blanket from the couch on her, tucking it as best he could. The Doctor left the library swiftly, silently asking the TARDIS to bring the medbay closer. His magnificent ship complied, and he sent her a mental thank you. 

The Doctor lay Rose down on the exam table, scanning her, looking for what could be causing the fever and chills, cursing himself for not pushing the issue earlier and concerned that his nearly overwhelming worry for her would cloud any decisions he had to make. Ordinarily he would have been grateful for Jack there to check him, but he suspected that Jack was nearly as worried as he was. 

The scan revealed a viral infection native to Nekam. Serious and possibly fatal if untreated, but curable. She’d be under the weather for a couple of days, then right as rain. He just had to figure out what the treatment was and administer it.

He silently thanked the universe for the fact that they’d caught it in time, and for it being something he could fix - even if he didn’t know the fix just yet. But for the moment, she was scalding hot and humans couldn’t withstand that kind of internal body temperature. 

“Right. Fever.”

“What is it, Doc?” Jack asked with urgency.

The Doctor was digging around for the fever reducer and answered Jack shortly. “Viral infection. She’ll be okay in a couple of days, but we have to keep the fever down.”

“I’ll go get a wet cloth,” Jack volunteered and left the medbay. The Doctor found the medication he’d been looking for and loaded it into the hypodermic injector, putting it to her neck and pulling the trigger. Rose jumped then moaned again and rolled her head to the side, falling back to sleep. The Doctor gave into impulse while noone was around. He slid her hand into his and kissed her knuckles then kissed her forehead, telling himself that it was just a traditional way to check for fever, knowing he was a damned liar even as he did it. 

Jack returned with a wet cloth and the Doctor stepped back from Rose. “Put that on her head and neck. The medication will kick in in a couple of minutes, but it won’t completely get rid of the fever.” 

The Doctor went back to his computer, poring his database to find the treatment and any additional information he could about the infection. Jack sat beside her and put the cool cloth to Rose’s head. When he turned the rag over to the cool side after a moment, Rose stirred. She opened her eyes.

“Jack,” she croaked.

The Doctor's hearts jolted.

 _'Jack,'_ she said. Not _'Doctor'._

The Doctor didn’t move, rejection burning every cell. 

“I’m here, Rosie,” Jack said quietly after casting a furtive glance at the Doctor. “You’re gonna be alright.”

Her voice was weak, and she furrowed her brow with the effort to speak. “Where….Doctor? Want the...Doctor.”

Jack gave the Doctor a meaningful look but he missed it as he rushed to Rose’s side, taking up her hand. “M’here, Rose.”

“I wanna go to bed. Wanna sleep,” she murmured, and he squeezed her hand a little. She didn’t return the squeeze. “Will you take me to my room?”

“I’m trying to find as much data as I can about what has you sick.”

“I’ll take you, Rosie.” Jack made to stand.

“No,” she said a little more clearly. “Want the Doctor.”

The Doctor shot Jack an apologetic look. “I’ll hurry, Rose, but I have to find the treatment. As soon as we get it sorted out I’ll take you.” He stroked her cheek, then cupped it, relieved to feel that her temperature had dropped a bit. “I’ll get this done then get you settled in, alright?”

“Don’t leave me. Please.”

“I’d never. Only going to check the database, right over there.” He pointed to where he would be, but she didn’t follow his finger. She just nodded, seeming to accept his words and let her head roll to the side. The Doctor watched her with a pained expression. 

“I’ll stay with you til then, alright?” Jack offered. Rose nodded again and went quiet.

The Doctor felt a sense of urgency when he spun around to the screen to find what he needed to make Rose well.

~*~O~*~

The database had not been compliant at first and he’d had to work hard to get the information he needed to make the antidote. Once he administered it to her neck via the hypodermic injector (earning a whimper from Rose that damn near broke his hearts), he waited only long enough for a scan to make sure it was working before he bent to scoop her up, bridal style again, to carry her to her room which had been moved across the hall. 

“Drink?” Jack offered. “I think we both need one.”

“Let me get her tucked in and I’ll meet you in the galley.”

Jack nodded and headed off.

If the Doctor needed any proof that the TARDIS approved of Rose, he didn’t need to go any further than her room to get it. Rose’s room had started out as any other generic bedroom aboard, but the TARDIS had been slowly expanding and adding to it until it was quite possibly the most beautiful room on the ship.

The room was decorated primarily in soft teal and brown with gold trim. She had a large four-poster, wrought-iron canopy bed that dominated one of the smaller walls. A comfortable-looking patchwork quilt in the room’s colors lay on top of it with billowing chiffon draped across the top and down each post. The TARDIS had provided her with not one but two windows to give her ‘sunlight’, a small sitting area and bookshelves. 

The Doctor took the smallest second to be surprised at the opulence of the room as he walked across the room to her bed and lay her on it gently. He pulled down the quilt and sheet beneath her, murmuring apologies for disturbing her, then covered her when he was done. His hand came up of it’s own volition and he stroked her face. Her fever had dropped a bit more, but was still there. “Sleep, Rose. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

Rose’s hand caught the Doctor’s as he pulled away. “Stay.”

His hearts thudded loudly in his ears, and he wasn’t sure he’d heard her exactly right. It sounded like she’d asked him to stay. With her. In her room.

“Not the whole night,” she said, her eyes weak. “S’just... I’m cold and don’t feel well. Please stay with me. Just til I fall asleep.”

The Doctor nodded and left her to pull over a chair, then noticed she’d scooted to one side of the bed and left the covers open behind her. An invitation. 

His mind stuttered to a halt.

He wasn’t sure he could stand a night of being curled against her. The fear that he would do something foolish was huge...nevermind the fact that she was ill.

 _But,_ he told himself, _that’s exactly why you should stay. She’s ill and wants comfort - from you. You’d be churlish if you didn’t give her what she wanted._

He attempted to argue with himself for a moment before his thoughts chided him. _You know that you want to. It’s one night, while she’s sick. You wouldn’t dare take advantage of her, she means too much. But you have a chance to hold her close for a little while, at her own request. Don’t be a fool._

Could he limit himself to one night?

 _You’ll have to,_ his internal monologue said, almost sadly.

The Doctor kicked off his boots and crawled in the bed behind her.

“M’cold, Doctor,” she said, her voice muffled by her pillow.

“It’ll warm up, love.”

“Hold me, please.”

_Sweet Rassilon, Christ and anyone else out there._

“My body temperature is lower than yours, Rose. It’ll likely make you feel worse.”

She snorted a laugh, and despite the fact that the derisive sound was aimed at him he was pleased to hear it. It meant she felt a bit better.

“You? Make me feel worse? Not bloody likely.” 

The wheels turned in his mind, searching for another excuse to make that would be acceptable, even if it was not quite true. He came up empty.

There was a very thin line between fight and flight, the Doctor knew, and he felt the need to do both as he lay looking at the elegantly draped cloth over her bed. He needed to fight this, to dig himself out of this quicksand before it engulfed him. He was drowning in Rose Tyler. He needed to run away. He needed to battle his feelings or run like hell.

But the Doctor, Time Lord of Gallifrey, did neither.

Logically, he knew that this could end only in disaster. Rose would leave him one way or another and the pain of it would shatter him for centuries. She could realize that he was just a lecherous old curmudgeon and decide she wanted to be around people her own age. She could decide she wanted a home, a white picket fence, a normal human life and ask him to take her home so she could pursue it. She could feel something other than what he believed she felt, she could feel nothing but warm regard, then she could realize how much he wanted her and be repulsed by him.

The Doctor wanted Rose Tyler in every way it was possible to want a woman. He wanted to see her smile, make her laugh. He wanted to hold her every night until she fell asleep and let the rhythm of her soft breaths be his lullaby. He wanted her to hold him when the guilt woke him up screaming at night. 

He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to be able to kiss her anytime he wanted. He wanted to wake up with her arm and leg slung across him possessively, wanted hers to be the first face he saw every morning and the last he saw every time he closed his eyes. 

He wanted to be the one person she relied on. He wanted to show her his determination to make sure she was safe, happy and loved. 

He wanted to give her everything she wanted, everything she’d dreamed of, everything she could possibly _ever_ dream of and everything she couldn’t. The entire universe was not enough for this woman.

He wanted her to love him as much as he loved her. 

Sometimes he thought she did; he’d let himself daydream that her handholding and cuddling and bright smiles meant something, and then he admonished himself. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. It had to be an wishful thinking on his part - inferring meaning that wasn’t there. Nothing was ever what it seemed...the Doctor knew that when you looked closely, there were always surprises in almost everything - cracks, chips, imperfections. The Doctor was certain that when he thought of the possibility of Rose loving him, he was convincing himself of what he wanted to see, not was an actual truth. Surely he was delusional.

But oh, what a _fantastic_ delusion.

She would never know how much she had healed him. She’d never know how close he’d been to the edge before he found her in that basement. She’d never understand how little he wanted to live, that he’d made a deal with his ship to stay alive. Then she’d given him a reason to stay alive. She’d made him want to live. 

He was a changed man, and it had nothing to do with regeneration. If he regenerated right now, he was sure that the depth of his emotion for her would carry over. It was much too powerful now. For entirely too long, the Doctor had been living inside himself. _Lost_ inside himself. He’d always, _always_ been totally self-assured. Cocky. Confident in himself and his abilities. Then it had all fractured, leaving the hardened pieces of him twisted and broken; only shattered fragments of him had remained.

Rose had rescued him and shaped him into a new creation; he was an entirely new person and it was all because of the tiny woman lying on the bed in front of him, shivering slightly. 

Logic warred with emotion inside of him. He knew that it was bad idea. The logical part of him, the Time Lord in him, told him that this was a bad idea. He should run away.

His hearts cried out for her. 

“Doctor, please,” she said quietly.

The Doctor had never been able to tell her ‘no’, even when it caused a rip in the fabric of time. This may very well rip him, his sanity, his hearts and his soul in half. It was a bad idea. It was a _terrible_ idea. He should tell her no, that he couldn’t do this. He should pat her shoulder and let her sleep. His reason was screaming at him to leave, to run away, to save himself.

He rolled to his side and scooted, curling against her.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“S’my pleasure, Rose Tyler.”

He had never uttered truer words in all his lifetimes. 

She reached behind her and took his hand, draping his arm across her waist and lacing their fingers together. 

With the feel of her hand twined with his and the soft sigh of contentment she gave, the Doctor realized that the game was over. 

He had once been a being of reason. He’d never quite eschewed emotion the way his peers had, but he’d not allowed his hearts to rule his life. When the Time War ended, he’d made up his mind to go back to the ways of the Time Lords, foregoing and ignoring passion for anything but reason. He’d be what he should have been all his life: an island of a man who needed no one’s approval. He would still slip up sometimes and let his emotions out; he'd been an emotional being too long to just quit cold turkey. But he'd keep a lid on it. 

Rose whispered, “Thank you, Doctor,” and he felt the last bridge to his old life catch and burn, hot enough to scorch. He’d never be the same after allowing himself to fall in love with Rose Tyler; the man - the Time Lord - he had been was a memory now.

He buried his head in Rose’s hair and inhaled her scent.

 _Fuck it._

~*~O~*~

Jack was still sitting in the galley when he came in an hour later.

“How is she?” Jack asked. 

“Sleeping,” the Doctor replied, putting the kettle on. 

“She gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” the Doctor said. “She’s just going to be unwell for a couple of days. We’ll hang out in the Vortex until she’s better, but I can take you somewhere and drop you off if you’d like.”

“No, I’ll stay,” Jack said. 

The Doctor nodded and continued to work on his tea in silence. 

His eyes were firmly on the kettle. “She’s going to leave me one day, Jack. She’ll be gone and I’ll be alone again.”

“I know that.”

“I’ll be left with nothing.”

“Nothing but regret, you’re right.”

The Doctor nodded silently.

“It’s true that she’s going to be gone someday, Doc. But facing the truth doesn’t mean you have to surrender to it.”

The Doctor was silent.

Jack let the silence linger for a minute, then sought the Doctor’s attention again. 

“Yeah, Jack?” The Doctor still didn’t look at him, instead pulled out the milk and his mug... the mug Rose had picked out for him so many months ago. He never used a different one. 

“It’s up to you what kind of regrets you have when she’s gone. Do you want to regret what you did or what you _didn’t_ do?” The Doctor didn’t answer and Jack went on. “I never believed in soulmates until I met the two of you. I’ve never known people who fit each other like you two. You’re perfect. If I were you, I’d grab this with both hands. Even if it only lasts a day…a single day of ‘incredible’ beats lifetimes of ‘ordinary’.”

The Doctor didn’t look up from his mug. He was trapped, a damned man. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. 

“I wish it were that simple, Jack. I wish I could just….”

“Don’t you wish you could _stop wishing_?”

The Doctor stood still at the counter, bowing his head, not answering. 

“Yeah,” he finally admitted. “I do.” The Doctor brought his mug of tea and sat it down on the table in front of himself when he sat. 

“Tell me what to do, Jack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The muse is not pointing me in the direction I had originally intended for the end of this story. The muse is actually kind of being an asshole about wanting their own way. 
> 
> Soooo....heads up. Ratings may change.


	14. The Oncoming Jewelry Customer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Rose and Jack make a stop in London. 
> 
> Jack has given the Doctor some romantic advice, but the Doctor has his own ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a very definite end in mind for this fic. There was a trajectory and plot points and things I definitely wanted to happen and definitely didn't. This chapter was going to be a standalone, I was going to end things in 2-3 chapters at the Game Station and then write a bunch of one-shots in this verse. 
> 
> I've had another idea for another story that incorporates part of what I had in mind for an ending in the next couple of chapters, so that's all up in the air right now. Plus the muse has been taking me in a direction that may or may not end in sexytimes for our heroes. 
> 
> Long story short; from here on, we're throwing out the outline and winging it. I'm struggling to keep things cohesive.

“Mom! I’m home!”

“Rose!” Jackie called out, running into the lounge and sweeping her daughter in a tight hug. “I wasn’ expecting you!”

“Surprise!” Rose grinned, pulling back from the hug. 

“You here to stay?” The hopeful note in Jackie’s voice couldn’t be missed.

“Nah, just the day.”

“Course not,” Jackie mumbled.

“Don't’ start, mum.”

“Where’s himself, then? ‘E swan off?” Jackie’s voice was carefully pleading.

“No, Mum,” Rose said, dropping her bag of laundry and sinking into the armchair she favored. “He’s tinkerin’ on the Tardis.”

“Comin in for tea?”

“Nah. Too domestic.” Rose kicked her feet up on the coffee table in front of her. “You off today? Want to go shoppin’?”

“I am off and I’d love to, but payday’s not til Friday.”

“S’okay. I’ve got some money.”

Jackie looked at her skeptically. “How’ve you got money, then? You’ve not had a bleedin’ job in almost two years.”

“It’s only been a year for me, mum. Thursday marks a year, actually.” Jackie snorted. “And the Doctor gave me some money,” she said somewhat defiantly, bracing for what was coming next.

Jackie didn’t disappoint. “Oh he _did_ , did he?” She rocked onto one hip and crossed her arms. “I reckon I’m s’posed to think there’s nothing wrong with that? That my daughter’s some kind of kept woman? Where’d he even _get_ human money, anyway, bein’ an alien?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “There isn’t anything wrong with it, and I don’t appreciate what you’re implying, ta,” Rose said acidly, matching her mother’s tone. “He has money because he spent a goodly amount of time working here and he’s still on the payroll as a consultant. Remember how they took us to Downing Street? _That’s_ how come he has money, Mum. Remember how I was there? That’s why he gives me the card every now and again.” Jackie uncrossed her arms then crossed them again in a fidgety gesture and Rose knew she’d won, but went on. “He handed me the card and told me to use it to restock the TARDIS and whatever else I needed. Hates shoppin’, him. He told me this mornin’ to go have a fun day and bring back some bananas and the biscuits he likes.” 

Jackie rolled her eyes. “Thought he didn’t do domestics. Now he’s giving the little lady his credit card and sending her out for groceries and mani/pedis?”

“Nobody mentioned mani/pedis, but sounds fun,” Rose said, mostly ignoring her mother. Jackie made a clicking noise in the back of her throat and Rose went on. “So how about it, Mum? Lunch on the Doctor? Or sit here and watch telly?”

Jackie scowled at her a moment then uncrossed her arms and waved them futilely. “Oh, go on, then. I’ll get my coat.”

~*~O~*~

Jack was thoroughly annoying the Doctor as they walked along the busy sidewalk. Well, the Doctor was walking. Jack was fairly bouncing.

“Doc, you’re scaring the locals,” Jack chided.

The Doctor scowled more. “Am not.”

Jack grinned at a handsome man approaching them on the sidewalk who smiled back. He turned on his heel to extend the eye contact with the stranger before turning back to the Doctor. “You look like you're out for blood. _The Oncoming Jewelry Customer_ ,” he said in a deep and ominous voice, then chuckled at his own wit. The Doctor scowled. 

“If I’m such a pain in the arse you don’t have to come along, you know.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for all the hypervodka on Pram,” the younger man enthused. “Besides, you probably don’t know what you’re doing.”

 _”Oi!_ Reckon I do!” Jack grinned, not the least bit repentant. “Anyway,” the Doctor went on, “I know Rose better than you. I know what she likes and what she doesn’t.”

“But I know _women_ better, Doc,” the Captain reasoned. 

“Don’t doubt that, me.” 

“You’re doing what I told you to do, aren’t you? You’re out to woo her.”

“Shut it, Harkness.”

It was true, though. The Doctor had taken the Captain’s advice - to a point. He’d hesitated to do what Jack had first suggested and just spill his guts to her, to tell her how much he loved her and all of his other very private thoughts about how wonderful she was. He’d refused Jack’s suggestion to ' _just jump her bones, Doc_ ' outright and threatened to strand him on Jand if he said something like that about her ever again. 

But when Jack’s suggestion had been to _show_ her what he felt, to woo her, the Doctor had taken it under advisement. He’d explained about Mickey and asked Jack what to do about that. Jack had snorted, ' _She’s here with you, isn’t she? Not some bloke back on earth. And it’s been what, two years for him, one for her? He’s not an issue._ '

The Doctor hoped he was right, but wanted hard-and-fast confirmation that they were done before he even thought of doing anything.

What he was doing now was just a nice gesture. S’all.

Jack skipped ahead a few steps and turned to raise his arms and gesture at the store they were coming up to. “Here we are, Doc. We’ll find something here.”

“No.” Jack looked at him, confused. The Doctor gestured to the storefront. “Not here. This place looks...new.”

Jack looked from him to the front of the store and back to him. “It looks like any other jewelry store to me.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t want a jewelry store, I want a _jeweler._ Someone who knows what they’re doing.”

A grin slowly spread against the handsome Time Agent’s face. “It would be pathetic, how bad you’ve got it, if it wasn’t so damn cute.”

“Don’t ever call me ‘cute’ again, Harkness.”

“A romantic Time Lord…”

“I said _shut it_ , Jack,” he warned again. 

“I mean, I’ve seen a lot in my day…”

“ _Oi!_ ” the Doctor burst out, coming to a sudden halt on the sidewalk. “S’not romance, s’practical! She needs a way to keep her TARDIS key safe. I want her to know I appreciate her. A good, sturdy chain makes sense for both.”

“And it’s not romantic _at all_ ,” Jack said sarcastically. 

“I told you, s’practical. Can’t even think about...you know...while she’s still with Mickey.”

Jack looked like he wasn’t buying what the Doctor was selling, but the Doctor kept at it. “So forgive me if I want to find a reputable jeweler to buy something for _my friend_ , it's the chain that will keep her TARDIS key safe. Not just any old disreputable Tom, Dick or Harry could be trusted with...with..." He paused. "Jack, what if she got separated from me and the chain we bought at some place like that,” the Doctor gestured backwards vaguely, “broke and she couldn’t get back into the TARDIS? What if she were stranded outside? You’d be alright with that, because we went into the pretty store with the models on the signs out front? You’d trust Rose’s safety to some sub-par big box store?”

The Doctor scowled at Jack, who stared back at him blankly for a minute before he broke into a smile. “Sweet baby Jesus, Doc, you rationalized that to perfection. I’m impressed.”

“Sod off.”

“Not a chance.”

~*~O~*~

“Thought the Doctor was tinkerin’ on the TARDIS all day?” Jackie said out of nowhere.

Rose shifted the bags she was carrying. She and the Doctor had parted on wonderful terms that morning; he’d been very attentive and sweet lately, and she’d never thought to doubt him or his intentions for the day for a moment. They had had the tiniest of rows that morning when he gave her the card and told her to go have a day on him. She’d tried to hand it back and he’d insisted, wanting to know what was wrong with her taking the card. 

“I just don’t feel right about it, is all. Makes me feel cheap somehow,” she’d said. 

“You are not cheap, Rose Tyler!” Rose had almost giggled and made a joke about being too costly, then the Doctor had sighed. “I earned that money working to defend the Earth. it’s only fair that you should have some, yeah?”

Rose had echoed his sigh in response. “Doctor….”

He cut her off. “I’ve taken you away from so much, Rose. You’ve missed your friends and family. 'Sides, you tear up clothes and shoes out here with me. Let me replace what I can, alright?”

Rose had narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t owe me anything, Doctor.”

“Rose,” he’d said quietly, “I owe you more than you’ll ever know. And I don’t know how to repay you so...go buy some trainers and a new coat and eat lunch with your mum and do anything and everything you want, will you? It’s all I know to do.”

She opened her mouth to tell him he didn’t have to do anything, then sighed. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his chest. 

“You’re a git,” she’d said. 

“M’not a git,” he sulked, putting his arms around her. 

She smiled into his jumper at his petulant tone. “Yeah, y’are. But I’ll keep ya.”

“You’ve got to. Can’t get rid of me.” He stepped away and she released him. “Bad penny, me.”

Rose grinned. Seemed she rather liked bad pennies. “You and me, chips tonight? You’ll be here?”

He smiled at her, one of his slow, gentle smiles that she liked best and she’d only ever seen directed towards her. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Rose Tyler.”

~*~O~*~

Her mother’s snapping fingers broke her reverie and she jumped to attention. 

“What?” she snapped. 

“I said,” Jackie said testily, “didn’t you say the Doctor was going to stay on his confounded ship all day?”

Rose shifted the bags again, they were becoming heavy. “Yeah, what of it?”

“Wha’s he doin’ over there, then?”

Rose followed the direction of her mother’s pointing finger across the street to see The Doctor stalking along the sidewalk, Jack bouncing along beside him. The scene reminded Rose of a puppy annoying an older dog with its exuberance, and she bit back a giggle. The two came to a crosswalk and Jack took notice of an attractive blonde woman. He didn't waste any time attempting to make her acquaintance. The two men were many yards away but Rose could still hear him clearly in her mind.

_'Hi there, Captain Jack Harkness…'_

She watched his lips move around a seductive smile saying the words she’d heard so many times and he extended his hand. 

The light changed and the Doctor grabbed Jack by the collar of his coat, yanking him along with a grumble she couldn’t hear but could clearly see. Rose actually did laugh delightedly this time when she saw Jack kicking his leg out, flailing his arms and trying to correct himself so he could follow the Doctor. 

Jackie hadn’t laughed, but watched the whole scene with an assessing eye. “Who’s the bloke?”

“Captain Jack,” Rose said fondly, still watching. 

“Hmm…” Jackie said, her gaze also following the retreating backs. “A bit of alright, that one.”

Rose spun around, raising the bags so she could point a finger at her mother. “Don’t. Even. Think it.”

“What? You cuckolding the Doctor? Taken up with him, now?”

“No, mum!” Rose exclaimed, disgusted. 

“Has the Doctor, then?”

“Oh my _God_ , Mum,” Rose complained. “Leave it.” She adjusted her bags again and started in the opposite direction from her shipmates. 

“Who is he, then?” Jackie fell into step beside her. 

“He’s a Time Agent from the 51st century. We met him during the Blitz in 1941. He saved us - helped save London and the world. He travels with us now.”

"Everything you say is barmy, d’you know?”

Rose ignored her. “He’s like my big brother, alright? We’re mates, and so are he and the Doctor. S’all.”

“So why can’t I meet him, then? He’s not my mate and he’s traveling around with my little girl.”

“Because he’d shag a brick wall, and you’re my mum, and _no_.”

Jackie seemed to let it drop and just walked along with Rose for a few minutes. They chatted about where to go next, where to eat lunch, whether or not to drop off their bags, and whether Rose should ring Mickey. Rose rather thought she shouldn’t. She was still hoping against hope that the Doctor may one day love her the way she loved him, and if he saw her with Mickey, it may just be the end of any chance for that. Still, she needed to let Mickey know it was over for good, that her heart belonged to the Doctor now. How was she supposed to do that without making a muck of things with the Doctor? How could she tell Mickey she didn’t want to be with him anymore without ruining their friendship? 

They sat down at a sidewalk cafe for lunch and waitress brought their drinks. Rose scowled at hers, as if it held the answers she needed but refused to give them up.

Jackie said quite suddenly, “You know, Rose, for him to be as wonderful as you think he is, he lies to you a lot.”

Rose’s hackles went up immediately. “We’ve been having a perfectly lovely afternoon. What are you on about?”

“He told you he’d be waitin’ at the TARDIS, yeah?”

“What about it?”

“Tinkerin’, he said.”

Rose shrugged, indicating that she didn’t see the point her mother was trying to make. 

“If he’s waiting for you, how’s he wandering the streets of London with this good-looking bloke?”

Rose frowned down at the salad that had just been delivered. 

~*~O~*~

They’d finally found and agreed on a little shop; Jack remembered an employee that had worked there in the 40’s very fondly. The Doctor was impressed that it had been in business for over a century. They’d tried two other stores but when the Doctor sonicked the first bit of jewelry he came to, he stated on a muttering growl that he found the quality to be ‘somewhat less than stated’. 

Jack had threatened to buy the damn chain himself and the Doctor could take or leave what he came up with when they finally landed on a family-owned shop that pleased the persnickety Time Lord. 

Jack swaggered in, all smiles as usual, and introduced them to the flustered shop assistant. 

“Hi,” he said, sticking out his hand. “Captain Jack Harkness.” Jack gave the poor girl his best smile and put on his most charming voice, pulling her knuckles to his lips to kiss. “And your name is…?”

The curly-haired brunette just stood there for a moment, looking like the prey she was, and the Doctor rolled his eyes. 

“M-Melanie! My name is Melanie.” 

Jack covered her hand with his. “Melanie. That is an absolutely beautiful name, and it certainly fits you.” Melanie giggled.

“Jack…” the Doctor warned in a low voice.

He let go of the poor girl’s hands and leaned an elbow on the glass counter. “Melanie, I’d like to help my friend here buy a gift for his wife.”

The Doctor was taken by surprise and coughed. Jack’s only acknowledgement was a grin, then he went on. 

“He’s got a real specific idea of what he wants to get her. A necklace, actually. Something beautiful and delicate, but strong.” He lowered his voice a bit, seductively. “You know exactly what I mean, don’t you, Melanie?”

“She’s not m’wife.” The Doctor interjected with a scowl at Jack, who ignored him. 

The shop assistant looked from Jack to the Doctor and back again. Jack ramped up the wattage and continued to ignore the Doctor. “Can you help me find what I’m looking for? I really want something beautiful, delicate and strong. For my friend’s wife, of course.” He winked audaciously at her and his tone made clear that he had absolutely no intention of buying any jewelry. 

The Doctor huffed, threw his shoulders back and jutted head forward in a gesture of pure frustration. “She’s _not m’wife_ Jack!”

Neither of them paid him the least mind. 

“Actually,” Melanie spoke only the fifth word she’d said the whole time. “M’shift ended three minutes ago. I’m off the clock.” The Doctor groaned internally and Jack stood up straight.

“Well, then! You must allow me to escort you to your car!”

Melanie blushed wildly and the Doctor was sure his eyes would roll back into his head. “Just a mo’,” she said, “Gotta get my coat and tell Ernie…”

She disappeared and Jack turned to the Doctor, who said sarcastically, “Well aren’t you just the cat that caught the canary?”

“Seems that way.” Jack grinned, utterly unrepentant. 

“M’ _wife_?”

“Had to take you off the market, Doc. Some chicks dig that whole…” Jack gestured towards the Doctor, “broody, mysterious thing you’ve got going on.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Damned right.” Jack finger-combed his hair and checked his teeth in the nearest mirror. “What time are we shoving off in the morning?”

“Whenever Rose gets there, and she’s never later than ten.”

“Done.”

“Don’t be late, don’t bring home a stray and don’t lose your trousers this time.”

Jack gave him a cheeky grin. “No promises on that last.”

Melanie emerged from the back room and Jack snapped to attention, offering his arm. Melanie giggled when she took it and the Doctor rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time when Jack winked at him on the way out of the door. 

“Can I help you, sir?”

The Doctor turned to find a man standing on the opposite side of the glass case. He was well dressed, just this side of elderly and wore a jeweler’s loop around his neck. He looked at the Doctor pleasantly but expectantly. 

The Doctor gave him a smile, glad to be rid of Jack and afforded some privacy. “Yes, hullo, Ernie was it? I’m the Doctor.”

“Doctor…?” asked Ernie, shaking the Doctor’s hand.

“Just ‘the Doctor’, thanks.”

“Right. Well, Doctor, I hear you need a necklace?”

“A chain, actually. Needs to be strong, nothing big nor flashy. Pretty would be nice, ta.”

Ernie absorbed all of this with appropriately-timed nods. “May I recommend a box chain?” The jeweler pulled out a tray of chains. “They’re simple but catch the light nicely and are quite strong.”

“Fantastic.” The Doctor pointed to one. “I’ll take that one. Can you wrap it?”

Ernie looked befuddled, perhaps realizing that he’d just made the quickest sale of his career. “Certainly, sir.”

“Fantastic!” the Doctor beamed. 

He wandered the small store while he waited, looking down into the glass cases. Jack had been right about one thing; he may know Rose but he didn’t know her like this. He knew her favorite movies and when she needed tea to soothe her and how she liked said tea and that she snored when she was overtired. He knew that she loved Dr Pepper (which secretly thrilled him to no end) and that although she liked pink, she preferred pink roses with yellow and that she couldn’t speak French nearly as well as she thought she could. But looking around the jewelry store, he realized he may not know as much about her as he had believed. The thought was disheartening. 

Then, just as Ernie walked back out of the back, a sign caught his eye and in a fit of whimsy, he asked, “Actually, Ernie, can I see this as well? Third down.”

The Doctor had a second fit of whimsy and left the shop ten minutes later with his packages.


	15. Chip Reimbursement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor takes Rose out to buy her chips and give her a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the last update for a few weeks. I'm working on my DW secret santa fic, and it's shaping up to be a bit long (but good, I think!) I promise, though, this story has at least two more chapters in it...just can't post them right now!
> 
> So, since there isn't likely to be anymore here until after the holidays....have some tooth-rotting fluff. <3
> 
> Edited to add: thank you so, so much for reading my little story. Every single hit makes me smile.

The air was more brisk than normal for the first week in October when the Doctor left the TARDIS and headed for Jackie’s flat to pick up Rose. There was a hint of snow in the air, and the Doctor smiled at it. He liked snow, he always had. He wondered whether Rose liked snow and all of the trappings that came along with it: the snowmen, the snowball fights, snow angels, etc. 

He knew she liked hot chocolate - they’d had a disagreement about whether the big fat marshmallows or mini marshmallows made for the best cup. The Doctor felt that a large handful of mini marshmallows would lead to a nice froth on top, Rose was in favor of large floating icebergs of fluffy sugar in her cocoa. Jack told them they were both bonkers and left the room. 

It was that very evening that the Doctor had realized that he was doing domestics with Rose Tyler. 

When she had giggled and wiped marshmallow froth off the end of his nose, he’d realized that he didn’t care. Domestics, like bananas, were good. 

He let his mind wander as he climbed the four flights of stairs to Rose’s mum’s flat. If he were to take her somewhere snowy and lug a snowball at her, would she squeal in delight and throw one back or not? The Doctor decided that his Rose would engage in a hearty fight with him. A fight that would lead to him advancing on her - to find a better strategic location to throw from, naturally. He would deliberately miss most of the shots he took at her, of course. He couldn’t hurt her, but he couldn’t let her think he wasn’t trying, either. And then when he got close enough to do so, he could just end the fight altogether by wrapping his arms around her so she couldn’t throw. Maybe he would trip and fall into her. _Accidentally_ , of course.

And then, when they're lying together in the snow…

_Down, boy._

He knocked on the door to the flat and looked down at the catflap, smiling at the memory of he and Rose peeking at each other through nearly a year ago. He’d had no idea what he was going to find when he lifted that flap, and he’d found much more than he expected, for sure. And oh, what a pleasant surprise. An angel of mercy had been hiding behind that catflap. An angel that had smacked him when he made such a terrible pun. ‘Armless’, indeed.

The Doctor chuckled at himself. It would be easy to say that he had no idea what had come over him, but he knew quite well what was going on. A certain blonde woman had gotten quite a hold over him, and he loved it. 

The door in front of him flew open, and his pleasant train of thought screeched to a halt. _Not this blonde woman_. 

“Hullo, Jackie,” he said, smiling. “I'm here to pick up Rose. Is she ready to go?”

“You lot just got here today and you’re already trying to take her away from me? It ain’t right, young girl travellin’ the cosmos with two blokes. S'not appropriate, giving her airs and graces when she's taken to fancy balls then thrown in jail. How's she ever going to adjust to life back here after all that? Why don’t you leave her here, with me?”

The Doctor didn’t dare tell Rose’s mother the truth; _‘I can’t leave her here because being away from her would destroy me,’_ so he focused on another part of what Jackie had said. “Ah, so you’ve heard about Jack?”

“Yeah, Rose told me something about some captain.”

The Doctor smiled a little tightly. “He’s not a captain.”

“That’s right, he’s been defrocked,” Rose said in a teasing voice from behind her mother. Jackie stepped aside and the Doctor felt a warmth bloom somewhere between his hearts. 

She wasn’t dressed up, per se; he’d seen her dressed for balls in exquisite gowns and dripping with jewels. This was just a jumper, jeans and boots. But the smile on her face when she looked at him, the look of genuine happiness that he was there - _him!_ \- was more beautiful than any dress or diamonds ever. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, and felt a bit proud of himself that he was able to get that much out. 

“Let me grab my bag,” she said, finally taking her eyes away from him and heading back to her bedroom..

Jackie grumbled inaudibly, but nothing could break the Doctor’s mood. Then Jackie grabbed his arm. “She’s all I’ve got, Doctor. All I have in this world. I can't lose her. Do you understand what I’m sayin' to you?”

The Doctor’s eyes clouded for a minute and he looked down at this woman, his rival, his love’s mother. She was worried for Rose, and he absolutely could not fault her for that - even if the cause of that worry was him.

“Jackie, I understand more completely than I think you know,” he said seriously.

Rose bounced around the corner and his mood instantly lifted again. “You ready?” she chirped.

The Doctor held out his arm with a smile and Rose looped her hand into it. 

“Please take care of my girl, Doctor,” Jackie said. 

Rose responded before the Doctor had a chance to. “Mum, I’m with the Doctor. There’s no safer place in the universe than right with him.”

~*~O~*~

The Doctor had given Rose his jacket when she shivered and complained of the cold on the way to the chippy, and she hadn't given it back just because they'd arrived at their destination. It hung on the back of her chair, draped behind her shoulders like a careworn cape. The Doctor rather liked how it looked, both on her and on the back of the chair she sat in - liked that it was clearly his and clearly in her possession. He knew it would smell of her later. The couple of other times he'd put his jacket on her, it had smelled like her - like cherries and almonds and lavender and something sweet he couldn't name - for days, and the knowledge that he now had a few days of that smell to look forward to made him nearly dizzy. The idea of Rose's scent surrounding him was very well worth feeling a bit under-dressed in his jumper and slacks. 

He'd taken her to the same chippy she'd taken him to after they returned from the year five billion and, true to his word, he bought her chips and a soda. _Dr Pepper,_ he thought to himself, pleased. When he sat the giant box of chips in front of her and the very small one in front of himself, she laughed out loud. 

“Gonna win me over with chips, are you? Or are you trying to fatten me up like Hansel and Gretel?” she laughed. 

“Not telling,” he said with a grin. “May want to pick up some breadcrumbs at Tesco, though.” 

“No, ta,” she giggled. “I’ve a better idea.” Rose dumped his child-sized portion into the extra-large basket he’d gotten her (earning an ‘oi!’ for her efforts), then shoved the huge, overflowing box between the two of them. “How ‘bout we share?”

“Very clever, Rose Tyler.”

She grinned, then pointed at the nearest soda. “This mine?”

He nodded. “Dr Pepper.” 

She grinned at him again. “My favorite. You remembered!”

He beamed at her in delight. “‘Course I did. Attentive, me.”

“And that’ll be a root beer.” It was a statement, not a question, and her eyes twinkled at him. 

“Got it in one.” Of course she did, of course she knew what he liked, because she was perfect and he loved her. It was so nice to be able to at least admit that to himself inside his head, even if he couldn’t yet say it out loud. 

They shared a smile then dug into their chips, eating and chatting about nothing for a while. She asked about Jack ( _”It took less than five minutes, Rose, I’ve never seen the like…”_ ) and he asked after her day with her mum ( _”I got what I needed and we had salads.” “No fun?” “It was a day with my mum.”_ ) The Doctor asked politely after Jackie and Rose avoided mentioning all the disparaging and slanderous things she’d said. The Doctor suspected anyway, and was amused. 

Rose said, “I never got ‘round to Tesco today. I’ll have to go in the morning.” 

"Did you get sidetracked with Rickey?" He used the wrong name deliberately, now, and it was relaxing somehow to disparage the younger man. Even if it was incredibly petty and beneath him.

"No, didn't see him. No reason to."

There was a wealth of meaning to those words, and he wanted desperately to explore them. He wanted to ask if she was _sure_ there was no reason to see the Idiot. He wanted to know if Mickey was aware that she didn't care to see him. He wanted to know if this were a feeling she thought would be permanent...was she done checking in with him altogether, or just a girls day with her mum? 

He didn't ask any of the questions that were lapping at him insistently. If Rose said there was no reason to, then he would take that for now. She was clearly choosing him, and the Doctor couldn't think on that too long or he just may take flight out of sheer joy.

He shrugged instead. “We could go for groceries after chips, if you like.”

Rose raised her head and scrunched her nose skeptically. “You know shopping is one of those ‘domestics’ you hate so much, yeah?”

“I know what it is.” His voice was a mix of annoyance, embarrassment and amusement. 

“And you hate domestics.”

“I’ll have you know I can make exceptions in a good cause, Rose Tyler. Went shoppin’ today, matter of fact.”

Rose leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Did you now?”

The Doctor mimicked her, leaning back in his own chair. “I did indeed.”

Rose tilted her head at him. “Go on, then, Mr. Domestics. What’d you buy?”

His eyes twinkled. “Somethin’ for you.”

Rose unfolded her arms. “For me?”

The Doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, thin box, laying it on the table between them. “I had it in my head to give it to you on Thursday, when we’d been traveling together for a year. But you just had to take the mick…”

Rose leaned forward and said with a little awe, “You remembered about our anniversary?”

“You doubted me? I’m wounded, Rose.”

She didn’t rise to the bait. “And you got me a gift?’

He crossed his arms and nodded down at it, smiling. “Go on, then.”

Rose reached down and picked it up, shaking it once, testing its weight. It was very light and made no sound. 

The Doctor would never admit to the fact that his arms were crossed to hide his trembling hands. Instead, he teased her. “Don’t play with it, open it!” 

Rose popped open the triangles of paper at one end, then the other. “Bloody hell,” the Doctor complained. "I might have known you’d be one of _those_.”

“Oi! It’s my gift, I’ll open it as I like!” she grinned as he grumbled with his arms still crossed and looked off to the side. 

“Rose Tyler,” he mumbled. “Unfolder of gift wrap.”

“Oi, you, knock it off," she lectured with a smile. “See? I’m to the box now.”

He leaned forward when she opened the box and his eyes lit up when she covered her mouth and beamed. “Been wantin’ to give you this since we left 1987, but I couldn’t.” He didn’t say why, just went on. “Figured you needed something to keep it safe. This’ll be better than that old string you had it on.”

Rose didn’t say anything, and the Doctor didn’t stop talking. His nerves wouldn’t let him. “It’s quite strong as it is - it’s a box chain and the jeweler said they’re strong - but when we get back I’ll sonic it and nothing and no one will be able to break that chain from your neck, Rose Tyler. You’ll only be able to get rid of that key if _you_ want to. No one can ever take it from you.” 

She finally looked at him and her eyes were wet. “Except you. No one but you can take it.”

The Doctor pushed the near-empty box of chips out of the way to grasp her hand holding the chain. 

“Rose, I will never take that key from you again. That key is yours and the TARDIS is your home as long as you want it to be.”

Rose’s tears spilled and he stroked the back of her hand for a second. Without warning, she launched herself around the table into his arms. “Oh, Doctor!”

He was torn between embarrassment at all the quizzical looks the other patrons were giving him and sheer unadulterated delight because the woman he loved - yes, it really _was_ rather nice to admit that - had wrapped herself around him in a burst of happiness. Happiness that he’d given her. 

Bugger embarrassment. If these other folks who were casting looks when Rose, so young and beautiful, slid her hair to the side so the old Doctor who appeared to be twice her age could put the necklace on her, sod it. And if they raised their eyebrows or clicked their tongues when the much older man’s fingers _just happened_ to brush her neck a little more than necessary...well, they could take their sour looks and opinions and fuck right the fuck off. 

Rose stood up, threw her arms around him again and kissed his cheek. When she leaned back from him, she held his face in her hands and said nothing for a minute. The Doctor wanted to kiss her...his eyes flicked from her lips to her eyes more than once. Rose smiled. “C’mon, Doctor. Take me to Tesco.”

They walked out of the chippy hand in hand with fingers laced, Rose’s key on her new chain, glinting in the neon lights that flickered down onto the sidewalk.

All was right in the Doctor’s worlds. Damn near perfect.


	16. Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose asks Mickey to bring her passport to Cardiff and makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's been a change of plans for this story, but if you've been enjoying it I don't think you'll mind too much. Hope not.
> 
> This is going to be the last chapter. I'm currently writing a continuation, the first few chapters of which should be up within the next week to two weeks.
> 
> I've tried very, very hard to be 100% canon compliant in this story, but I went an _eensy_ bit off canon with Mickey and Rose's dialogue. 
> 
> As a final reminder - I don't own any of this. Recognizable dialogue is from "Boom Town".
> 
> And now, without further ado, the final chapter of 'Healing'!

“You don’t need your passport, Rose, I told you.”

“It won’t hurt to have it, Doctor,” she said patiently and dismissively.

“Rose, think. You can only use it in your timestream if we’re going from one country to another and aren’t using the TARDIS.”

“I know that.”

“Then why the sodden hell do you need it?” His frustration was bleeding through.

Rose sighed, an equal but gentler frustration coming from her. “I would just feel better if I had it, alright?” 

“Fine. We’ll stop off at your mum’s sometime next week and pick it up.”

“Why? We’re going to be in Cardiff tomorrow anyway, why not just have Mickey bring it to me?”

 _Because I don’t want that tosser anywhere near you!_ he thought.

Instead he said, “It’s just ridiculous for him to make a trip when we can just pop by and see your mum.”

“Doctor,” Rose said and put her hand on his chest lightly. He tried not to react physically from her touch and proximity. Failed. “It’s alright. I’m going to get the passport and see my mate for a while, yeah? Then we’ll head right back into the Vortex, just the three of us. I’m not bringing Mickey on board or anything.” The Doctor huffed. “Do you really have such a problem with him anymore?” she asked.

_He’s still in love with you. Of course I have a problem with him!_

“No,” he gritted out. 

“He’s a good bloke, Doctor. You’d like him if you gave him a chance. Just...let me see my mate for a bit, yeah? I miss my friends sometimes.”

Well that did it. The Doctor wouldn’t have told her no anyway - really wasn’t able to if you got down to it - but if she was missing her old life it would be infinitely better to give her some time. Keeping Rose happy was paramount to keeping her with him, and thus, his own happiness. 

He sighed heavily. “Fine. We’ll go tomorrow.”

Rose smiled brilliantly and threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Doctor!”

She dashed off down the corridor towards her room, passing Jack along the way and throwing him a quick ‘hi’.

Jack smiled at her, then looked at the Doctor, confused. “What’s she so excited about?” 

“We’re stopping off in Cardiff to top off the TARDIS. She wanted to stop in her timestream so Mickey can bring her her passport.”

Jack looked confused. “But she doesn’t need a passport.”

“I know that,” the Doctor snapped, then chastised himself. This wasn’t Jack’s fault. He deflated. “She just wants to see him.”

“Doc,” Jack said bracingly, “I’m sure it’s not what you’re thinking.” 

“Yeah,” the Doctor said, turning back around to the console.

“Just relax,” Jack said. “It’s going to be fine. Really.”

The Doctor just nodded and didn’t believe a single word.

~*~O~*~

There was a murderous Slitheen on board the TARDIS, sitting just to his left, but the Doctor still felt positively buoyant. They’d caught her with minimal trouble and Mickey the Idiot hadn’t managed to let her get away. 

Speaking of Mickey the Idiot, the Doctor was surprised to find that he actually wasn’t regretting the decision to stop in Rose’s timestream and see Mickey. She was making no secret of her affection for him, even though Mickey was right there with them. When they walked away from the TARDIS, it was _his_ hand she grabbed. It was _his_ shoulder she lay her head on. _He_ was the one she kept turning to for answers, saying complimentary things about. And it was to _him_ that she kept shooting small, secret smiles, occasionally touching her tongue to the corner of her mouth. 

There had been a tense moment when Mickey asked her if she was staying. Rose hadn’t let him down.

She’d chosen him. 

So it didn’t matter, really, if there was a deadly alien sitting on his ship blathering on about how he was a murderer and daring him to look her in the eye. He really didn’t care. Rose was staying with him, she had chosen him, and all was well. He had no idea how long Mickey was staying, but the Idiot would be gone soon, he was sure. 

The Doctor was pleased with these developments. 

Mickey stepped out of the TARDIS for a bit, muttering something about fresh air. The Doctor paid him little mind: it didn’t matter. Rose followed him and he tried to tamp down the flare of jealousy that sparked within him. 

Rose was staying with him. She’d said so. He had nothing to worry about.

Still, he couldn’t help but hover near the monitor. Just in case she needed him or something.

“I didn’t need my passport,” Rose said, then covered her mischievous smile with her scarf.

Mickey was chuffed by this revelation and pursed his lips happily. Rose reached up and swatted his arm, giggling. 

_They’re mates. They’ve been mates for her whole life._ The Doctor’s hand tightened around his sonic, and he attempted to look busy while watching the monitor covertly.

“I been thinking, you know,” Mickey started. “We could...go have a drink. Have a pizza or something, just you and me.”

 _This is it,_ he thought. _This is when Rose tells him, in no uncertain terms, that she chooses me._

“That’d be nice,” Rose said softly.

 _She’s going to tell him over pizza,_ the Doctor told himself, desperation pawing at the corners of his mind. _No problem. All is well._

“And, I mean, if the TARDIS can’t leave until morning we could…” He paused. “Go to a hotel. Spend the night.” He hesitated then rushed forward. “I mean if you want to. I’ve got some money.”

The Doctor felt a flash of pure rage, and attempted to soothe himself with hope. _This is really it. This is the moment she’s going to tell him that it’s all over between the two of them._

“Please, Rose,” he heard himself whisper.

“Okay. Yeah,” Rose said with a smile. 

The Doctor’s hearts seized up, stopping their steady beat then restarting wildly. Blood roared in his ears and he could hear nothing else. 

On the monitor, Mickey took Rose’s hand and the two walked away.

Pain - sharp yet oddly dull - ripped through the Doctor’s insides. She’d chosen Mickey.

“So, what’s on?” Jack said gently.

“Nothing, just-” He couldn’t finish, simply gestured toward the screen. Refusing to meet Jack’s eyes, he looked down to the component in his hand. He could feel waves of sympathy and something like apology rolling off of Jack towards him. 

It didn’t matter. She’d chosen Mickey.

~*~O~*~

Rose ran into the TARDIS, straight into danger as she always did, and Blon Fel Fotch grabbed her by the throat.

“One wrong move and she snaps like a promise!”

The Doctor went very, very still, afraid to move, his eyes narrowing to slits.

Blon demanded that the extrapolator be placed at her feet, and tightened her grip on Rose when nobody moved quickly enough. 

Dark, angry clouds swirled through his brain. He would destroy this creature if she left a single mark on Rose. He would tear her apart from the inside out. And then he would piss on her remains. 

Rose’s eyes were terrified, and it fueled his wrath. At no point should that precious girl be afraid when she was with him. 

He was going to kill Blon Fel Fotch with his bare hands. But for now, he had to make sure no harm came to Rose.

He nodded at Jack to give her the extrapolator. 

Rose gasped for air while Blon explained her evil plan. The Doctor wanted to soothe her, to tell her that it was alright, but the storm within him wouldn’t allow it. Plans rose to the forefront of his brain and were quickly dismissed. All he wanted in that moment was to get Rose to safety and then destroy Blon Fel Fotch. The darkness within him was going to blow like Vesuvius, and he found that he was ready and willing to unleash it. He’d never wanted Rose to see him like that, but the little voice that told him to find another way was quickly being drowned out. Better for Rose to see his dark, angry side and survive unharmed than for the unthinkable to happen.

“The extrapolator was programmed to go to Plan B.” Blon jerked on Rose’s neck again and she gasped. The Doctor was near to snapping. He knew it and didn’t care. “To lock onto the nearest alien power source and open the rift.” 

The Doctor heard a voice speaking to him from the back of his mind. 

The TARDIS.

_Don’t do it, my thief. Don’t allow yourself to channel the darkness._

_I have to,_ he said back within his mind. _She’s going to hurt Rose. I can’t lose Rose._

_Let me save Rose. Let me save you. I can save you all._

“And what a power source it found…” Blon taunted him. 

_I will save you all. I will open my heart to her._

The Doctor jerked his head up to look at the rotor. _You can’t._

_I will save Rose. I will save you. I will save you all._

Blon adjusted her grip on Rose, turning her body out and away, but didn’t let go. 

“Stand back, boys. Surf’s up.”

 _You can’t,_ the Doctor implored the TARDIS. _Rose is right there. You’ll kill her._

_I will not harm my thief’s healer. I would never. But I must protect you from the darkness._

The console opened and a bright light shone on Blon’s stunned face.

 _What are you going to do?!_ he asked desperately.

 _I’m going to give her what she deserves,_ the TARDIS replied. _All of you will get what you deserve._

“What’s that light?” Rose cried, frightened.

He answered Rose, still addressing the Slitheen. “The heart of the TARDIS. This ship’s alive. You’ve opened its soul.”

He stared at the Slitheen with almost the same intensity as the TARDIS, willing her to let Rose go.

“Look at it, Margaret.”

“So...beautiful…”

Rose eased from Blon’s relaxed grasp and ran to Jack. The Doctor looked over at the two of them for half of one heartbeat, enough to see that she was alright before he turned his eyes back to the Slitheen. 

“Thank you,” Blon whispered, then vanished.

 _Thank you_ , the Doctor told the TARDIS.

~*~O~*~

“Oh my god, Mickey!” Rose cried, then ran from the ship.

The Doctor closed his eyes and bowed his head. 

“Doc,” Jack said softly.

“Don’t bother, Jack. It’ll never be me. It was never going to be me.”

“Doc -”

“I was a fool to think, even for a second, that-”

“ _Doc,_ ” Jack said loudly. The Doctor finally looked up at him, the pain in his eyes evident.

“It’s over between the two of them,” Jack said softly.

The Doctor shook his head. “How can you say that? You know it’s not. Mickey was going to get a hotel…”

“I’m telling you, it’s over. Rose ended it. She chose _you_ , Doctor.”

The Doctor just shook his head sadly, standing with Margaret’s egg and putting it on the console. 

Jack sighed, putting his hands on his hips and looking at the ceiling as if trying to decide something. He lowered his head and looked at the Doctor, who wasn’t returning his gaze. “I followed them, Doc. I overheard them.”

The Doctor looked up at him sharply. “How’d you -”

“I’m a Time Agent, Doctor. I’m no Time Lord, but I’m no amateur, either.”

The Doctor stared at him for a second, then flipped a lever on the console and shook his head. “You must have misheard.”

“I didn’t. Rose talked about you all night, talked about all of the wonderful things she’s seen and done with you. Mickey got frustrated with it. Then he asked her to stay with him, and she refused. Told him that she was going to stay with you.”

The Doctor stared at him, the console forgotten, his jaw slack and mouth open just a little.

“He changed tactics and said that he just wanted her to promise that when she _did_ come home, she would come back to him. Rose shook her head and told him no. That they’d had a good thing, but no.”

“You’re lying,” the Doctor said softly.

“I’m not, Doc. Rose chose _you._ ”

“But she was still going to sleep with him,” he said, and Jack could tell he was trying to keep the pain out of his voice.

“I don’t think she was. I think she was trying to let him down easy.” The Doctor stared at him, unbelieving, and Jack put his hand on his shoulder. “It’s _over_ , Doc. She’s not with him anymore. She’s _free_.”

The Doctor shook his head again, then the TARDIS door flew open. Rose came in, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“How’s Mickey?” he asked tentatively.

“He’s okay. He’s gone.”

 _She chose me,_ he thought.

“Do you want to go and find him? We’ll wait.”

Rose said no, and they dematerialized into the Vortex. When the Doctor looked up, Rose was running down the corridor, just as she had the day before.

~*~O~*~

He found her a short while later, sitting in her room and staring into the fireplace that the TARDIS had given her. The door was slightly ajar and he stood there for a moment, hearing her sniffles, feeling the odd sensation of his hearts breaking because she was hurting, and his hearts singing for joy because she’d chosen to stay with him.

“Rose?” he said quietly, pushing the door open a couple of inches.

She straightened on the couch at the sound of his voice, wiping her eyes hurriedly and clearing her throat.

“Hi, yes, come in, Doctor.”

The Doctor opened the door the rest of the way, then closed it gently behind him. He walked over to where she sat, staring into the fire again. 

“May I?”

Rose nodded and the Doctor sat on the couch, close enough to reach out and touch if he wanted, but not crowding.

“You alright?” His voice was uncertain, soft.

Rose nodded, not looking up. “M’alright. M’neck’s a bit sore.”

The Doctor furrowed his brows. He hadn’t even thought of that after the overwhelming relief of her being okay, then coming back to the TARDIS. “Can I see?”

Rose nodded and sat towards him, pulling the scarf away from her neck. The Doctor scooted a little towards her then leaned in, reached out, and let his fingers trace lightly where Blon had squeezed her. There was a little redness there and he was sure that she was tender, but she wasn’t seriously hurt. He took one finger and outlined the red mark, touching only for the pleasure and comfort of it.

“I can use the sonic,” he said.

Rose shook her head. “S’alright. Thank you for worrying about me.”

“I always do, Rose.” _You’re the most important being in the universe to me._ He sat back up, closer than he had started but still not touching her.

The Doctor followed her eyes to the fire, watching it burn merrily for a little while, his thoughts swirling.

“You and Jack alright?”

“We’re fine,” the Doctor assured her. “Not a scratch.”

She fixed him with a look. “Are you really alright? Blon was trying to get in your head when I left.”

“M’fine, Rose. She scared me when she took you, s’all.”

“How about the TARDIS?”

The Doctor looked at her and smiled softly. His sweet, compassionate Rose, caring about everyone. “She’s a little banged up, but nothing we can’t fix in a day or so. She’s seen worse.”

Rose nodded absently and looked back towards the fire. “S’good.”

The events of the evening rolled around in his mind and he felt the undertow of emotion tugging him under.

Unbidden, he said in a quiet, sulky voice, “you left with him.”

Rose jerked her head around and stared at him. “What?”

The Doctor wished desperately he’d said nothing, but plowed ahead anyway. “You left with Mickey.”

“How do you know that?” she demanded.

“You were right next to the TARDIS and it was on the monitor.” His voice dropped lower and he went on, fighting hard to keep the despondency out of his voice and knowing he was failing. “He asked you to go to a hotel. You said yes.”

Rose gaped at him, but he couldn’t look at her. He didn’t want her to see just how wounded he really was. Rose didn’t say anything, just sat perfectly still, staring at him. The seconds pulled out and stretched like taffy, then she said in a voice much louder than they had been using:

“You jealous _git_!”

The Doctor jerked his head up at her. “Pardon?”

“I can’t believe you, Doctor. I really can’t.”

“What did _I_ do? I’m not the one who said he was leaving you behind to run off with an idiot!” Indignation and anger were replacing the hurt, making him foolish. He knew it. He couldn’t help it.

“You honestly thought I was swanning off with Mickey?” she said, indignant.

“Well what was I supposed to think, Rose? He asked you to get a hotel room, you said yeah, then you walked away holding hands. Not stupid, me. He was asking to get a leg over!”

“Is that what you think of me, Doctor?” she demanded, her voice rising. 

“No, I think you’re brilliant, although your taste in men is abysmal.”

Rose smacked him then, landing a hard blow to his shoulder that he winced from. “ _Ow!_ ”

Rose was on her feet, pacing in front of the fire. “I can’t believe you. You thought I was going to sleep with Mickey. I can’t believe you don’t know me any better than that!”

“You invited him to Cardiff!” the Doctor shouted. He shot to his feet now, his fists clenched. “You wanted to see him! Then you wander off towards a hotel hand in hand...tell me what I should have thought about that, Rose?!” 

“I was taking him off to end everything, Doctor! I called him to Cardiff so that I could tell him that there was no going back for him and me! I wanted to tell him that it was all over, for good!”

The Doctor stood stunned for a second, then crossed his arms. “What was with the hotel, then?”

“I agreed with it to get him away from the TARDIS. I felt like breaking up with him with you fifteen feet away was cruel, so I wanted to get him out of the shadow of the TARDIS.”

“And you couldn’t have done that without agreeing to sleep with him?”

“I was wrong, okay? I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

“Were you?” he asked, realizing fully that her assessment of him as a jealous git had been on point.

“Was I what?” She looked confused.

“Were you going to go to a hotel? Were you going to sleep with Mickey?”

Rose balled up her fists, bringing them to her forehead and turning back and forth in utter frustration. The Doctor watched her, not knowing what the gestures meant.

She turned to him and dropped her hands to her sides, still clenched, and looked at him. He saw a fire in her eyes that he’d never seen before, and for the umpteenth time that evening, his chest tightened.

“You daft bastard,” she muttered. Then she took two large steps towards him, grabbed the lapels of his jacket and jerked him down to her, dragging his lips to hers and kissing him, hard.

The Doctor stood frozen for a moment - only a moment - before he threw his arms around her and dragged her the rest of the way to him in an almost desperate embrace. He tilted his head and responded, his lips assertive against hers.

Rose let go of his jacket and lay her hands flat against his chest, then slid them up around his neck, tugging him towards her. Her lips were soft, the gloss she’d applied earlier sticking to his own mouth. He couldn’t care. She tasted of joy and peace and forever and time. 

The Doctor slid one of his arms down to circle her waist, keeping her anchored to him and let the other glide upwards to cup her face. Her precious, beautiful face. 

Rose’s lips parted slightly as they slid across his, and he seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss. She whimpered into his mouth - a surrender. He growled into hers - possession. 

Rose was his, goddammit. _His._ And if she wasn’t yet, he wasn’t going to stop until she was.

He realized suddenly that she was pushing against his chest, pulling back from him. Horrified at the lightning-fast thought that he’d been taking advantage of her, he stepped back.

“Rose, I’m - I -”

“Don’t you _dare_ say you’re sorry,” she warned. “ _Don’t you dare._ ”

He looked at her, helplessly. His frankly magnificent brain was failing him at the moment, and he couldn’t make sense of her. 

“How many times, Doctor? How many times am I going to have to leave him, leave Mum, leave my home behind before you realize that I choose _you_? That I want to be with _you_?”

Her words still weren’t making sense: the Doctor had that maddening feeling of things not connecting in his mind. 

“I don’t -”

“I told you you were stuck with me, ‘member? I told you that I was staying with you. _Why_ can’t you understand that?”

He stared at her. Her words were starting to sink in, but he didn’t dare believe them. 

“I love you, you prat.”

The Doctor’s face lit up brilliantly, then dimmed. Old doubts, the ghosts of all the reasons he’d had to avoid this, resurfaced in his mind. “Rose, I’m an old, broken man. A murderer…”

She stopped his mouth with a kiss. He didn’t try to fight it this time, just surrendered to her arms and hands and mouth and let her take the lead. She teased him, letting her tongue sneak between his lips for just a second before she’d snatch it back. It was exactly the right thing to do: he growled and crushed her to him, parting her lips wider so he could chase her tongue with his own. 

He broke away from her reluctantly to let her breathe and was surprised to find himself panting. Leaning his forehead against hers, he brought his hands up to her shoulders. He didn’t know if he were trying to push her away or hold her close; coherent thought was drowned out by Rose biting her kiss-swollen bottom lip and sighing contentedly, the air from her lungs ghosting along his own lips.

 _How intimate,_ he thought with a small smile.

“Doctor, I don’t care. I don’t care about what you were. You _are_ the most amazing man I’ve ever known, the kindest and most generous, most intelligent…”

The Doctor chuckled, low and dark. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Rose Tyler.”

She grinned again and he couldn’t help himself, he rubbed his nose along hers for a moment before he captured her lips again for a soft, sweet, but short kiss. 

“I can’t give you the kind of life you’d have on Earth with a some bloke like Mickey, Rose.”

She scoffed. “If I wanted beans on toast, I never would have run into this blue box and flown away with you.”

He took a deep breath. “You’re amazin’, do you know that, Rose? Do you know how in awe of you I am? I don’t deserve you, and I never will.”

Rose slipped her arms around his neck again and arched her back against him so that her body pressed against him and her head leaned back just enough so that she could look into his eyes. Her eyes were the color of whisky and he found himself completely intoxicated just looking at them. 

“Nor do I deserve you. But I want you, Doctor, want to be yours. Forever.”

The Doctor was sure, in that moment, that the smile on his face was the biggest he’d ever smiled in his nine hundred years of life. 

“Fantastic.” He brought his hands up to her face, cradling her jaw on each side and letting his thumbs stroke her cheeks. 

The Time Lords didn’t believe in letting one’s emotions rule their actions. He’d been taught his whole life that emotions were dangerous, deadly.

There was some merit to that, he thought, as he continued to drown in her eyes. This was going to end, it was going to hurt, and he may never recover. He was playing with fire and he knew it. Mauve flashed in his mind; memories of warnings and cautionary tales from his days at the academy pounding in his brain. 

Fuck all of it. Every bit of it. Rose was here, her beautiful face in his hands and her soft body pressed to his. This was now. He literally had everything he ever wanted, in his hands, _right now_ , in the form of Rose Tyler.

Rose Tyler, who had taken a bitter, broken bastard who wanted nothing but death and given him a will and desire to live. Rose Tyler, who had offered him her little hand and pulled him up from the bed of nails he’d been lying on, then soothed his wounds with her endless compassion. Rose Tyler, the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on in his life. Rose Tyler, who had taught him what it was to be happy when he’d forgotten what it even felt like. 

Rose Tyler, who irrationally, inexplicably loved him. 

He’d be a fool to throw away such a gift. 

Fuck his teachings. He was too far gone to care anymore. He’d burned all the bridges that connected him with his old life anyway, destructive bastard that he was. He’d never escape the guilt, he knew, but he wasn’t connected to to the man he’d used to be anymore. All because of Rose Tyler. This precious girl looking up at him with hope and desire and kindness in her eyes, loving him. She wanted him and God knew why, but he wasn’t able to deny her anything. Never had been. If she wanted him, then he would give himself to her - he’d place his hearts in her hands and trust her with them. He had no fear that she would abuse them. 

Rose was his happiness. He was going to grasp at this happiness with both hands and never let go. 

“Absolutely fantastic,” he murmured.

He had no bridges connecting him to his old life left to burn. They were all gone now - just as the Time Lords were gone, so was his old life. He was an island now, all alone. 

The Doctor bent his head just a couple of inches and built a bridge instead - one that connected him to Rose Tyler, hope, and life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING MY STORY. Truly, I can't begin to tell you how much it means to me to get the emails that tell me I have kudos or comments. 
> 
> I'm working hard every day on the continuation for this story. It will begin where this chapter ends, but will be an AU set in the canon verse that can function as a standalone. (Make sense? No? It'll make much more sense when I publish soon, I promise).
> 
> Again, thank you. I have, by far, the best readers in the world. I can't thank you enough. 
> 
> ...And if you don't mind, send me some juju and positive vibes as I work on the continuation!


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